[2025-12-30] 10 hours at the miami airport
Ask not what you can do at the Miami airport, but what the Miami airport can do for you.

11:30am
I am nearly the last to deplane. I saunter out, reveling in the feeling of having nowhere to be.

12:30pm
My first empanada (ham and cheese) is DRY, but it gives me an excuse to sit in a tucked away bookstore-cafe and finish The Peepshow: The Murders at Rillington Place by Kate Summerscale. This is what Ellen would call my “gum,” as I slowly wean myself off true crime YouTube. Addiction comes in many forms.

12:45pm
Having passed an Einstein Bros, several more empanada spots, two Nathan’s, and a sit-down sushi restaurant in search of a smoothie, I settle for a large black tea from Peet’s. I was drawn in by the prospect of matcha, but decide once I’m at the counter that it’s too late in the day for that much caffeine. I ask for green tea, but early grey is all they have. I continue my quest to walk up and down every route in the terminal, now juggling my slightly broken luggage with a scalding cup.

1:00pm
I have successfully walked all D gates. I sit down at the edge of E with my tea to start this note.

2:30pm
My tea is finished. After some brain off scrolling, it’s time to get a hot dog.

3:00pm
I haaaaaate clear mesh flats.

3:15pm
E is smaller and older and takes less than 10 minutes to complete. It does, however, house a Chick-fil-A. I ponder the moral implications of supporting a company that donates to homophobic causes, but eventually order a spicy deluxe that disappears faster than it should for costing $9.27. The hot dog will have to wait. Instead, I wander into a to-go cafe for a bag of blue Doritos and eat the whole bag while indulging in a Crime Junkie episode. (The first one recommended when searching “best true crime podcast.”) Addiction sometimes comes in the form of podcasts.

6:30pm
Chugging celery juice, scrutinizing Airbnbs in Costa Rica, yapping with Elise to pass the hour, listening to a second crime podcast (no murder though), getting turned away from the Turkish Airlines Lounge because it’s full, finding a hidden bathroom next to the Turkish Airlines Lounge (the cleanest one yet), clearing photos up until 2024, spotting a family of Rimowas, starting my third patrol of the terminal, thinking about hot dogs, standing in the middle of the walkway just because I can, deciding to be invisible just because I can, finally getting a hot dog just because I can,

7:00pm
My AirPods died.

7:05pm
I am absolutely certain I just walked by someone who went to my high school.

7:10pm
AirPods charge alarmingly quickly.

8:00pm
I have successfully made it into the lounge. I am the picture of health, having consumed a pitiful salad and a glass of orange juice. I brush my teeth and put my compression socks on. I am all but settled in when

8:30pm
I encounter a Karen. I was going to head to the gate now but instead I will sit next to her out of spite until I miss my flight. She said “well now you’re asking for a lot” and by a lot she meant that I had asked if I could plug in my charger around hers, which occupied the bottom outlet but blocked the top one because she stacked her watch on top of the block, and I offered to take the bottom outlet so she could keep her watch stacked but she presumably didn’t understand that I meant to help her even though I didn’t have to and she’s the one taking up shared space like she owns this place while I try my best to be polite and as small as possible so as to not sully her impression of young Asian women with mullets. And I think about all the other times I’ve made myself small and let people walk over my space because I technically don’t need all room even though it would certainly be more comfortable and I can be the bigger person because I can choose peace and that’s better for my heart anyway.

8:45pm
I have conceded and made my way to the gate.

9:30pm
I am seated directly next to a baby. Adios and good night.