Row 25

2-9-07, 2:30pm, Dulles Airport

All the nervousness of packing, getting ready, and finishing up work has gone away. As soon as I got out of the Super Shuttle at Dulles, I was at ease, excited even.

When Air France asked me where my final destination was I had the biggest smile on my face. “Cairo,” I said. The guy smiled back, noting my excitement.

Airports just get me going, especially when I’m by myself (not with a huge group, and I don’t have to babysit co-workers) and when I’m flying to a place I’ve never been.

I become really observant- I listen to all the languages being spoken and try to guess what they are. I browse all the duty-free stores and smell all the perfumes until I start to get a headache. I become a crazy people watcher. I make up stories for why they are going to places. What they do. Where they’re from. And then when I sit next to one of them and they tell me differently, I get disappointed because they’re going to Thailand to install hi-speed internet and they’re not sneaking into Burma with Doctors Without Borders.

I stopped at an alcohol booth. Kate and Nic only asked that I bring them two things: Brilliant Brunette shampoo (you can guess who requested that one) and a bottle of Cointreau. Poor college kids in Cairo- no good alcohol to be found. Duty-free stuff is a bit weird here at Dulles, where there isn’t a specific international terminal. The staff asks you every 30 seconds where your destination is, to make sure it’s not a domestic flight. Forget about your age, they just don’t want you to bring booze to Salt Lake City. You’re not even allowed to take it out of the store, in case you’re buying it for someone else- they deliver it right to your plane. Weird.

This is my first time flying Air France. And it just dawned on me: holy crap, I don’t speak any French. I know the numbers one through ten. Hopefully that helps me when they call row twenty-five…