• Melissa Miller

Flying People

I have flown a fair amount of times, recently. Mostly for work. Everytime I fly, though, I am alone. Being as extraverted as I am; being alone for an entire day gets irritating. Between watching movies on my phone and playing Candy Crush for the 15th time, I people-watch. Usually, people watching is a more 'loner' style activity. At least, that's how the game is stereotyped in television. I never cared, to be honest, what other people were up to at the mall or DMV. At the airport, though? That's a whole other ballgame.

I live in Las Vegas which, as you know, is the party capital of the world. Patiently waiting to board my plane, people run from the gates screaming, "Vegas, Baby!" High-fiving one another and chatting about the slot machines in the concourse. It's exciting to see people so excited to see a place I am utterly bored by. To me, Omaha was exciting. Omaha you ask? Yes, the real down-to-earth center of the USA. Vegas is for show, it's not a life.

I imagine all sorts of things when I see these people come in to Las Vegas. Some are rushing with suits on; lots of conferences in Vegas. The frat boys already wasted and unable to walk through the gate. Will they meet the love of their life in Vegas? Probably not. Will they meet some girl they can dry hump in a nightclub? Definitely. Then, there are the families walking through the airport. A mother in her early 40s, yelling at two young children, and her husband trying to keep his eyes from wandering on the half naked billboards that out-of-towners gawk at. I wonder what possessed them to bring their children to this place lovingly named 'Sin City'. Depending on the time of year, I see young ladies under 13 in cheerleading outfits coming for a competition. A little shameless if you ask me. Cowboys during rodeo season. A woman with an entourage, bestowed in a crown that says '21' or 'Bride'. A couple holding hands. Eloping?

These people come from all over the world. People I statistically will never pass by again. Our paths crossed between travels. I will never speak to them and they me. In their rush to their next destination they could care less about stopping and seeing the Hudson News stands with silly souvenirs and snacks. My mind has taken note of their face, their attitude towards the destination, and has completed a world for them. They wouldn't be able to pick me out of a crowd. They may have never even seen me through the stimulated senses of their vacation mind. But me? I'll be sitting here, typing away, and writing you another story.

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