A couple months ago I stood at the arrivals section of the airport, waiting for a friend, holding a clipboard with a sign saying, ‘Tall, Dark & Handsome’.
I was approached by members of the general public and asked whether I was ‘waiting for someone specific? Or just being hopeful?’, one of whom commented ‘I better get me one of those signs’.
On that particular occasion I was waiting for a specific, tall-dark-and-handsome; in Athens this wasn’t the case.
I had met fascinating people in Dubai airport. None eligible dates, but they could be worth mentioning regardless. An example would be the Australian girl called Haiku (legitimately, I’ve seen her passport), who’d sold everything, headed to Greece (the cheapest European destination) to begin ambling around for 2 years.
Landing in Athens, I got chatting to a Greek-Australian as we navigated our way through transfers. I saw an opportunity and the invitation for a drink was made. The date was a bottle of water, drunk while sitting on the floor outside my boarding gate.
A refreshing time, spent sharing our excitement. As a down-line-engineer, desperate to break out of the mundane routines and comforts of life, he’d gone against his nature and resisted meticulously planning every detail of his 2 and a half month holiday in Greece, in an attempt to discover his spontaneous self.
Should, at some point, I be an ageing spinster, desiring marriage, I’m going to head to an airport (with a sign if I’m desperately desperate).
They really are great. A trapped and diverse audience with nothing better to do.