"Hi there.
This is surreal.
Greetings from the Airplane Graveyard.
We're in the middle of the Sonoran desert and the planes keep landing. A 747 from hong kong just pulled up... A 777 from Chile.... The middle of nowhere. Apparently LAX is closed for a bit. Everything in the southwest is being sent somewhere else. Feels very nine eleven. I wish it was feeling a bit more seven eleven. I'm starving and there's no food left on the plane. Want potato chips. Want you."
A direct cut-and-paste from a text message conversation that I had several nights ago as my plane dove towards a random desert airstip airport east of town... running for cover as the naton's 3rd busiest aiport unexpectedly shuts down for a few moments.
Staring at strangers from all over the world through small little windows.
What is going on?
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