This past weekend, I was in the airport twice in a twenty-four hour span for my Sixthman Throwdown party (which kicked ass by the way, big thanks to Cindy!) With Thanksgiving, site inspections, cross-country concerts, Christmas, and five cruises on the near horizon, I’ll be spending a LOT of time in airports, waiting in lines, and on airplanes. I can’t wait.
Seriously. I love airports, and I enjoy flying. The longer the flight, the better. The longer I’m stuck waiting in an airport, the happier I am. Flying alone? Not a problem.
Why? Simple. I absolutely love reading, but I can never find the time to read as much as I’d like when I’m home. There’s always a TV show to watch, place to go, game to play, etc. However, in an airport, there is nothing to occupy my time except an iPod (set to my carefully cultivated Relax playlist), a quasi-comfy chair, and a good book. I prefer airports that charge outrageous amounts for wi-fi…that way I’m not tempted to waste my time on Twitter or Facebook.
An hour and a half before a plane ride, a two hour flight (four if I’m heading to the West Coast), and more time waiting for my ride after the flight means I can blow through an entire book in an afternoon. My book purchases generally follow a week of studying best-seller lists, friend recommendations, and Amazon reader reviews. However, I’ll check out the airport bookstore and buy impulsively on a whim. The last three books I’ve bought (and finished before leaving the airport):
Water for Elephants: one of the best books I’ve ever read. A great story about an old man in a retirement home, who looks back on his crazy life as a young man with a traveling circus troop. I finished this one halfway through the flight.
I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell: the most offensive, improbable, ludicrous, laugh-out-loud hilarious book on the market. The guy next to me on the plane couldn’t believe that I was laughing so hard from reading a book. If you’re easily offended, avoid at all costs. If you’re not, and can put up with an egotistical maniac, you’ll never laugh harder.
The Game: Fascinating non-fiction book, written by a NY Times writer sent to infiltrate a secret society of pick-up artists. The guy gets in so deep, that he actually becomes one of the world’s best, eclipsing the great Mystery (VH1′s “The Pick-up Artist” host). Luckily I picked this one up on a day when I was stuck in the airport for seven hours. I couldn’t put it down.
So that’s my airport ritual: read, read, read.
How do you spend that hour and a half waiting for the plane to take off? People watching (who doesn’t love doing that)? Reading trashy tabloid magazines? Sleeping?
-Steve