Here's what happens when you get off the plane at the Springfield, Missouri airport at 7:30 on a Friday night. First, you don't get to eat or drink because nothing is open (at 7:30 on a Friday night, mind you). Second: the airport is apparently owned by /sponsored by/or the birthplace of Bass Pro Shops. There are metal fish hanging from the ceiling. The middle part of the carpeting is blue; the edges brown: so you're swimming/walking upstream or down, whatever, but you're very definitely supposed to be in the middle of Nature.
And you'll have to either hunt or fish your own dinner because nothing at the airport is open.
At 7:30 on a freaking Friday, not that I'm bitter.
At 7:30 on a Friday night, actually, when our plane pulled up at the gate, there were zero other planes. Which is weird, quite frankly. I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised the restaurants were closed. In fairness, by “restaurants,” I am referring here to one MacAllister's and a coffee stand. But they were both closed.
It's not like Friday's a school night, you know what I'm saying here?
In retrospect, I'm relieved that I didn't disembark the plane via rolling metal staircase (although I did have to do that in Charlotte, North Carolina this morning. I felt so glamorous. I waved, like the president. I'm sure some onlookers were confused because we do weigh the same even though I'm nine inches taller.)
It's kind of funny because I've been working on an airport article to publish. (Clevenger Design aims to please, after all.) And, this weekend, I got to visit the First Baptist Bar and Grill, Airport, Bait and Tackle Shop in Springfield, Missouri.
I didn't get to eat or drink anything when I was there, but I was there. In the fake river. With the metal fish. And it's actually a pretty convenient airport (minus the food thing) with polite people working (but they're not working at MacAllister's).
Also, there's a full size Bass boat just sitting in the terminal. I'll get to see it again in four weeks. I'm thinking of packing a lunch bag. I might even sit in that boat.
(And just for the record, I love everyone involved with MCCGA. They're wonderful hosts and wonderful, warm people. I am so grateful they let me work for them. So please don't misunderstand my mirth about the Springfield airport as any sort of negative commentary about the wonderful folks in Missouri.)