Ah Cobalt. I Hardly Knew You

So I was walking home from the bar last night and I thought that my neighborhood seemed really pretty and serene:

I love the blue lights. The owners keep them on day and night:


I was kinda bummed because I knew that I had to get up in a few short hours to return the rental car (a Chevy Cobalt this time. Loved it!) to the airport. So instead of getting into bed like a responsible adult, I proceeded to fall asleep on the couch watching Home Alone (I know) before waking up at 5:00 a.m. and crawling/staggering into bed cursing myself and the wall I just ran into.

I woke up this morning wanting to scream. 8:00 a.m. is TOO EARLY. But I managed to get the car back in time and decided to mosey through the airport. Have you ever walked through the underground tunnel from the rental area to Terminal A (read: the shitty mini terminal far removed from the rest of the airport. The terminal that Northwest occupies and governs with an iron fist. The terminal at which I practically lived for the past six months)? It is eerie down there. I felt like I was in a movie or something:

Being completely alone was strange enough, but even as I listened to my solitary footsteps I could just sense that I was being watched. Neato!

After multiple moving sidewalks and several escalators, I got to this awesome waiting area somewhere in terminal A. It looked just like I would expect an airport to look in a movie from forty years ago:

It was as if Audrey Hepburn could walk through at any second.

I finally made my way to the metro and got home. As I turned into my alley (yeah, I live in an alley. Well, not really. But it's still pretty sweet), I glanced at the cute little market and then immediately did a double take:


That's right... it was OPEN:

Unreal. It's not open Wednesday at four in the afternoon, but Sunday at 10:30 a.m.? No problem.

Superbowl later. Go Steelers! And Go Detroit!

I think I'll take a nap...