Since I’m trapped with nothing but a massive airport and the internet to amuse me, I think I’ll post to LJ with something like a Facebook or even a Twitter frequency. This may cause you to feel like you’ve been transported back to 2006. Do not be alarmed.
I had a moment of clarity where I realized why nothing in the duty free stores ever appeals to me: The duty free stores are populated with consumables. Alcohol. Tobacco. Perfume. Candy. CONSUME. It is perhaps the very definition of the duty free good that it not have any lasting value.
Let us not mince words: I enjoy a sweet smelling drunk smoker as much as the next guy – but a whole store dedicated to things that will become grease spots, ash, and urine in short order – it makes me sad.
I have now walked the length of the international terminal here, and I can report that it is long. I walk at a brisk clip, and it took me nearly an hour to go end to end and back. Added to the hour of chillin’ with my cheese sandwich and bottled water, and I only have an hour to go before the flight opens. Yay.
I’m now into the part where I could very easily just take an eensy little nap and (a) miss my flight or (b) assuming that I nap on the flight, wake up semi-rested and unable to sleep just as I’m supposed to go to sleep. Therefore, on I push.
I have a couple of small bills as a souvenir. The only kitsch that even mildly appeals to me are the highly ornamented arabic art – and I don’t think I want to pick up something that fragile at the beginning of the trip.
