On Wednesday, I and my meticulously packed, unpacked, and repacked suitcase departed on our trip to Oregon. The idea was to arrive in Oregon also on Wednesday, but I had certain doubts, to the extent that I actually did the thing you are supposed to do and put my prescriptions in my backpack just in case (instead of putting them in my checked bag). For I was going through Denver and as I said to my mother, repeatedly, you never know about Denver. Twice in my life I have flown through Denver and twice in my life has my layover been extended to the next day. This was the second time.
I actually like airports, for the most part.1 I enjoy how they seem to exist in a place with no proper time. As of this writing, and drawing off of my admittedly limited airport experience, my favorite airport in the States is O’Hare and my favorite airport abroad is Zurich’s. The Denver airport, however, is an airport with “lore” and you never want an airport with lore. The lore includes aliens, secret tunne…