I cannot seem to graduate from the travel, planes, and rainy days of the east coast this summer. Torn between San Francisco and New York City on a cross-country tug-of-war (NYC is pulling more strongly at this moment in time), somehow I wandered into Pittsburgh, then Chicago this week. On a Tuesday night when rain lined up every plane on the runway at Laguardia airport in NYC like a Wal-Mart parking lot, I waited 1.5 hours in confined space with nazi flight attendants and snoring passengers boxing me in. This was after 3 hours sitting in an airplane terminal, looking for ways to creatively pass idle time (as if I needed any more time to do that). Then, I arrived in Pittsburgh.
I could recount the late-night check-in, the smoking room once at the destination, the three hours of sleep, the awkwardness of acting as one of the "Two Bobs" of Office Space during the day at the remote meetings, and ulimately, the delay in getting out of Pittsburgh. I am better apreciating the flavor of regional pespectives and customs of different people within this country, laid bare by contrasting Manhattan and suburban Pennsylvania in a sleep-addled swoop. Thankfully, I don't live around Pittsburgh.