I was recently in Auckland International Airport and had some time to kill, so I got a bit drunk and made some observations.

– Everything is so pristine and glowing with white lights on gold trim.
– The men working retail here are better groomed than me on a good day.
– I love sitting in an airport listening to the sounds of different languages chattering away. Some of them are quite melodical. I’m ashamed of my lowbrow Aussie accent.
– An American tourist sailed past. “The security here is so FAST!” he exclaims to his partner.
– I’ve never heard of some of these designer brands. They *look* like designer but me, in all my years of reading (shudder) women’s magazines, had never heard of them. What is “Furla”? Am I old and out of touch? No, it’s the children who are wrong.
– Signage promised me a prayer room. I followed (staggered through) the maze to the prayer room to find it shut. Apparently, God is not always with us.
– I *might* be flying business class.  If my upgrade gets honoured. I already feel like a fraud.
– Duty free is a bloodbath. “24 karat magic in the aaiiiiiir!” blasts at me from a speaker being proudly demonstrated by one of those aforementioned perfect looking young men.
– People who I can only presume are bogans are crowded around the flavoured Absolute Vodka pyramid.
– Women are browsing perfumes, pretending to be interested, but you just know they are taking a mental note of what they will buy for a third of the price at Chemist Warehouse.
– People are looking at me funny. Yes, drink your coffees. I’ll drink my whisky. I am on a different timezone to you. It’s 5pm (8am) for me. Shut up.
– I was going to get some sushi, but it was $19.50. $19.50! For sushi!!! Get fucked.
– All of the Asian airlines have the most beautiful flight attendants. They look like pristine dolls with their immaculate little outfits. They are the epitome of hospitality and grace.
– I think airports are designed to make you feel like you have money. All this glitz and glam makes you feel like you can afford it.
– GIANT FUCKING TOBLERONES. WHY.
– Flu masks. When little Chinese ladies wear them, they look fashion forward. When I wear them, I look like your cousin Dwayne coming off the work site from a hard day of plastering.
– I don’t even know where my gate is. How many more giant Toblerones will I have to walk past to get to my destination? It should be called Auckland International Toblerone.
– There’s a KFC here. Holy fuck. I haven’t been eating fast food for a few months now. I could cheat. I could be unfaithful. No, that’s the whisky talking. I silently retreat from the periphery of KFC, already feeling my arteries yearning. Not today, my pets. Being that I refrained from spending money on KFC, I feel I now have extra money to spend on whisky. It’s called accounting people, look it up.
– There are so many toilets here. So many toilets. I wonder what the water consumption here is.
– I didn’t get the business class upgrade, it must be because I hadn’t purchased a giant Toblerone. They’re onto me.
– The loudspeakers are speaking Mandarin. Fuck it sounds beautiful. I’m drunk and I want to learn Mandarin.
– The Toblerone family has a “new arrival”. Hint: It’s just smaller Toblerones in a carton.
– There is golf on the big screen TV. Every time I go to an airport there is golf on a TV somewhere. Without fail. It’s probably why my parents love to travel so much.
– Why do all 50-year-old men with beards look identical?
– Croissants. How many croissants are in this very airport this very second? How many?

Love, Akika xoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox