Death by Scones

I’m sitting in Newark Liberty Airport munching on an extremely fattening chocolate chip scone, and sipping my Grande Mocha Light (I do what I can to stay healthy) Frappacino (hold the whip cream.) and call this my dinner. There is nothing to eat in this godforsaken airport. The closest thing to real food is the TGI Fridays and their greasy fries and pints of beer. It could be that I’m in an ancient terminal, so they haven’t really had the opportunity to improve the facilities or food offering here, but there are a lot of other things that make this airport one of my least favourite ones to fly in and out of. Actually scrap that, I dislike all the airports in the New York area (which could also be attributed to the fact that I’m probably at the older terminals).

Somehow it’s always an ordeal flying in and out of New York, and I guess I should count my blessings with the lack of problems or issues at Newark compared to the ones I’ve experienced in the past. Out of the 4-5 times I’ve been to New Jersey and New York, one memorable trip included mass hysteria at JFK due to weather troubles, a wave of flight cancellations, and the check in line going for a good city block outside of the terminal while we waited in the midst of winter to see if we would be able to fly out that night. But nothing tops my first trip to New York, where I woke up on the day of my departure to learn that the Brits and Americans had discovered a bomb plot to blow up planes over the Atlantic Ocean that were destined for New York. Let’s just say it was not fun to fly out of NYC that day and ended up throwing away all of my toiletries and makeup (except for my favourite tube of lip gloss which I managed to sneak through).

Anyway I need to go. Thankfully the plane is going to board soon. I was worried that I might suddenly fall unconscious from the stagnant and humid re-circulated air in this airport. [James, why hasn’t your company come and fixed this place yet?]