the temporary community

We all gotta eat. We all wanna drink. Airport bars are the place where people come together just to split apart again. I sat down tonight at a puck in the Chicago airport and within minutes business travelers of all tax brackets were sharing tips on what to order. We watched each other's stuff while "I step away for a minute" and we lamented about our least favorite airports. The guy in the red athletic wear next to me looked like he was ready for advice, the barely legal frat boy to my right was looking for someone to drink with, the bearded guy just wanted a side salad but it wasn't on the menu.

As I sat at that bar tonight I felt myself agreeing, smiling, sharing my travel secrets of survival and making menu recommendations to the weary souls around me. These guys were my people. Not one a leisure traveler. All weekday warriors. We were a tribe even before we sat together. So, I guess the temporary community isn't temporary at all. Although we aren't sitting at the bar together now, we're connected through greater commonalities. Frequent flyer programs, American Express memberships, and cell phone networks.

When I sit down to eat in an airport it's more than caloric intake. It's breaking bread with people you don't know but are part of your club. We're just one common lay over away from being on a first name basis.