Night shenanigans

Part 1

Fluorescent lights, the smell of serialization and... what is that? Feet? Mmm, airport security. Honestly, I've never felt more fear than I feel at this moment, as I watch my pathetic half filled drawstring bag slowly disappear into the darkness of the x-ray machine.

Airports aren't necessarily my favorite scene. Something between the antsy people, the stuck up security, and rush of it all, just doesn't tickle my pickle as my father would say.

30 seconds, that's the amount of time chaotic chatter fills the silence before the intercom consistantley reminds us not to leave our bags unattended... like I would. I guess that's something I got out of the relationship with my mother. Anxiety. A blessing and a curse. I never leave anywhere without triple checking my pockets.

I involuntarily smack the side of my leg, then my right buttcheek. My phone? It was just here! In the midst of my panic, I turn around ready to cause a scene. That's when I catch a glance of the people behind me, calmy emptying their pockets, placing phones and balled up earbuds in a basket. That's right, TSA. Glancing back down at my sad looking bag, I find my phone... neighboring my chapstick, a coin, and a crumpled receipt. That's the other thing. My mind is quick to jump to conclusions... I find it leads to less surprises. Ugh, surprises. I hate surprises.

My heart picks up as I begin to overthink the situation. Did I forget a bomb in my bag? An instant ice pack?!? HEAVEN FORBID A HALF DRUNK WATER BOTTLE!?! I'm pulled from my overflowing pool of thoughts when a gloved hand tugs on my arm, unnecessary. Too afraid to break away from my non-confrontational nature, I follow the security guard's unspoken direction. But seriously, did he have to touch me? Orange and blue stop my eyes from further wandering, catching a glimpse of my socks, what terrible, terrible luck. Why, WHY, did I not pay attention to my socks this morning?

Calm down Kara, calm down. Deep breaths. Just because you are an insane amount of uncomfortable right now, doesn't mean you have to make it everyone else's problem.

Taking a deep breath, and I mean deep, I start to relax... sort of.

Walking through the body scanning machine, I begin to change my focus. My worries that were once occupied by my bag getting through TSA, are now fully focused on getting my shoes back on quickly so as to not inconvenience other people waiting in line. Shoe laces are so difficult, why do they even exist? Are slip on shoes too simple for this society? Breaking out of my own little thought bubble, a sound slightly mirroring that of a small dying cat mixed with the sound the windshield wipers on my car makes escapes my lips. A sound so strange it confuses even me. Furrowing my eyebrows, my eyes shift directly to my left, hoping no one heard it. Unfortunately for me, a middle aged bald man locks eyes with me. Offering what feels like a smile, I know is more of a grimace, I try to cover myself.

"Pft, shoe laces, am I right?" Sarcasm. That was laced with sarcasm. There is no way he didn't catch that... right?

Wrong.

He just stares at me, successfully slipping on his shoes. Unsure how to act, I just kinda, well... stare back... wide eyed. I break the intense moment being held between me and this guy, let's call him Benny... he looks like a Benny, I grab my remaining items still left on the belt, and set off on my merry way. Though I should probably mention how I never really did get my shoes all of the way on.

I shuffle, or sort of drag really, my feet towards the food court, popping a squat at the nearest open seat.
Committed to the bit, I wedge my fingers along the back of my heels, attempting to squeeze my foot into my shoe. My fingers, burning, turning red, can't handle the pressure. The closer I get, the more my digits ache. The loud screech of an unhappy child brings me to my breaking point. My shoulders hunch defeatedly, my fingers retract as I pull my orange socked foot out from my shoe. Placing it on the chair, securing it between my legs, I sigh. With shaky hands, I try to untie my now very knotted laces.