Midnight Airport

Airports are strange places at the best of times, each one a portal to another world. At night the atmosphere changes, its quieter, the rush has gone and the shops are slowly closing while cafes sell their wares, things become stranger, people: tired, semi-delirious with sleep, become commrades in some sort of battle to fly through the night. I don't know whether it is the sleep or the continuing, low buzz of excitement, but I feel like a 16th century explorer when I really shouldn't.
The coffee shop has five or six other travelers sprawled across arm chairs, sipping their beers, teas and coffees and making them last. A man to my right types furiously on his laptop, excel spreadsheets furiously defying him. A scruffy traveller smiles and gives me a wink. I realize its Paddy. To my left two guys with long, blonde dreads talk passionately about how much they hate cops. An English man sits with his young daughter as she calls her mother.
The coffee shop is closing, our boarding call hasn't begun yet, we have no where to go but we know we cannot stay. We walk around in circles trying to get some excercise before the flight.
I'm on the plane less than half an hour and I'm already grumpy. Paddy sighs, pained exasperation in his face. I have valid reason!!! They messed up my vegetarian request (which I booked two months at least in advance) and the entertainment system isnt working. Any moment now they will call out "We need someone to fix this entertainment system, is there a programmer on the plane?" I'll quietly, but confidently raise my hand and fix it for everyone, they'll upgrade me to first class with free flights for life! Ah, but its not to be, my pipe dream dissolves into restless sleep.... Bangkok here we come