I wait.

The flight was delayed. Over an hour. It's already half an hour to midnight. The gray haired-gray mustached man near me sits in a pink, pin-striped button down with his hands behind his head like he has all the time in the world. There's a mom, single maybe? Sitting with her daughter who looks around 3 years old wearing polkadot rain boots with a high ponytail. So young, so happy. To my left is the smoking area. 5 people. Max. Who the heck smokes this late in the night? The man in the pink just coughed.
I'm still waiting.

A wave of sound crashes over me from behind. Talking. Talking everywhere. Who the heck talks this loud this late at night? Two boys: one with curly brown hair, long sideburns; the other with clean cut black hair, Chicago bulls hat. Playing thumb war. So childish.
I'm jealous. And still waiting.

There are Indians everywhere. Not native American ones. The other ones. Arent I still in Utah? What gives? They're sleeping though so I guess I'm okay. Next to them is a bald guy. Late twenties. Plaid button down, paired with a black zip up jacket. He's eating. I've eaten too much today, but I still want to have what he's having.
As I sit. Still waiting.

Laughter. What's so funny? I want in. Nothing's funny this late at night. Who am I kidding. Everything's funny this late at night. Especially with a lot of kids around. Where did all of these kids come from? Why are they flying so late at night? They should be sleeping. I should be sleeping. And yet, I'm still sitting here.
Waiting.