Dear GRU Airport Administration,
Global Citizen here and I would like to end my relationship with you.
It brings me no joy in sharing my conclusion with you, as I love Brasil. I love everything about Brasil, from it’s people, to it’s food, all the way down to those little cheese balls. I believe that on the 7th day, God rested, and that guy probably started baking, because damn I love those little cheesy balls of heavenly goodness.
But even melted cheese cannot repair the damage you have done to my soul in less than 24 hours.
I landed here at 1am on a Thursday, with a 20-hour layover connecting to EWR. I hate it here. I feel like Tom Hanks in the movie “Terminal”. I cannot leave as a tourist visa can not be purchased at the airport. A Transit visa can’t be purchased either. THERE ARE NO OPTIONS TO LEAVE THIS AIRPORT. (apparently GRU has not figured out what Egypt, Kenya, Dubai, and a LOT OF OTHER AIRPORTS have figured out)
Ok. That’s fine. You know what GRU? You give me lemons? LET’S MAKE SOME LEMONADE. I can do this. Let’s look at how we can make this situation bearable.
Keep in mind GRU, it’s 1am in the morning, I’ve had a long day, I’m tired. But this is a new relationship – I don’t want to bring baggage into this relationship (I hope you appreciate the pun there, baggage, see what I did there? BAG-GAGE. GET IT?). Anyway, first things first, let me brush my teeth like my mother taught me. So far, so good, you got running water, I got a tooth brush and I have tooth paste. Awesome.
Brush teeth. CHECK.
Now. I anticipated that you might not have any stores open at this hour, so I brought the pillow and blanket from the previous flight with me. There is more cotton on the end of the Q-tip I use to clean my ears than in this pillow, but that is not your problem. That, GRU, will be the subject of a different letter.
Now, to find some acceptable sleeping place.
I’m going to go ahead and not argue with you on the choice of the hospital tile you have greeted me with. I understand the need to have clean floors and keep clean (see brushing of teeth from earlier). But these chairs? COME. ON. I mean, I’m not expecting Herman Miller to outfit your airport, but seriously, which psychiatrict hospital going-out-of-business sale did you get these chairs from? Why don’t you just go ahead and put some barbed wire on the edges of the seat to prevent pigeons from sitting on the chairs as well. God forbid that the people who come to this airport want to be comfortable while waiting for their next flight.
Yet again, I will rise above this and try to find something good about this relationship that I’m forced into.
Note: I just looked down and saw that the brand name of these metal chairs is Probjeto. That is EXACTLY how my rear end feels – like there is a probjeto in there. Mission accomplished with that branding. Bravo good sir!
Ok – back to the plot line – so I take my Q-tip pillow, and my tissue paper blanket, and found the ONE broken set of metal chairs that is missing a prisoner bar, and I sleep on it. Until about 4:30am, at which time, someone came and motioned something which I only assume meant that nap time was over, and it was time to start my day.
No. Problemo. GRU! Bring on the morning in BRASIL!
First things first. Coffee. Let’s do this delicious thing known as brasilian breakfast. Oh wait, what’s this? Sandwiches and cokes? No coffee? None? Are you sure? Well, whatever, sandwiches and cokes it is! (at least the cokes were in the brasil colors – in anticipation of the world cup). As a side note, the coke with the green color on the side still tastes like regular coke.
So I buy a SANDWICH and a COKE for 24 local-currency (which I found out later was 12 USD) Disgusting. That sandwich should go put itself in the corner and think about what it’s done. The lettuce was probably fresh when the dinosaurs walked the earth. I am not kidding. GRU, there is not much that I won’t eat (I can include a picture of myself in my next letter if you so desire), but I threw this sandwich away. Now, on to the Coke. Delicious. Lovely. Expensive, but lovely. Ok, I’m smiling again.
Let’s go brush my teeth.
The counter is wet. There is toilet paper is everywhere. I will spare you the exact details on the smell. I don’t want to tell you how to do your business (wow, I am on a roll with the puns today aren’t I? See what I did there? Business. I was talking about toilets. BUSINESS. Get it?). Can I make a suggestion? how about this. Tomorrow, just for tomorrow, how about we move the person that walks around walking people up who are sleeping, and assign them to clean the toilets so that it doesn’t look like a monkey’s playground?
So, let’s get some work done. Free wifi. Thank you for this. Thank you so much for this. GRU, you can attribute 100% of the reason that there is not a noose hanging from the rafters with my neck in it to free wifi.
Ok, more shops are open now, I’m feeling hopeful! Let’s go see a man about a coffee. Excuse me… café? You DO?!?!?!? YOU HAVE ESPRESSO??? How much is it? 28502840 million dollars (this figure is slightly exaggerated). No problem. I will have one.
Oh. 🙁 It’s nespresso pod? in a nespresso machine?? all you’re doing is pushing the button??? What about Brasilian coffee??!? Do you have that??? No? Nespresso. Ok. Whatever. Give me the coffee.
People are now sitting on the floor GRU. Is it because there are no more chairs? There are plenty of chairs! It’s because the floor is EQUALLY comfortable as the prob-jecto chairs. Even that, GRU, is fine. This airport is looking like a refugee camp. EVEN THAT IS OK.
What’s that smell?
I just watched a woman change her baby in the airport. Checked for a #2, and sure enough, #2 was wafting in the air. Boom. Right there. Diaper change. Now shit is getting real GRU! (that’s 3 for 3 on the puns, if you have been keeping score, see what happened there, SHIT IS GETTING REAL? #2 in the diaper. #2 = shit. Come on, not bad for a guy that is breaking up with you in a letter, huh?)
GRU – listen– you got a lot of things going for you… Sao Paolo financial capital of Brasil. World Cup! MILLIONS OF PEOPLE COMING TO BRASIL SOON! But I gotta tell you, it’s not you. It’s me. I’m unhappy with how you make me feel, and I will break up with you.
Don’t worry, I will check up on you – googling “GRU airport reviews” every now and then, pointing to the number of stars, and saying… ahhh, I knew GRU when it only had 2 stars.
You. Can. Do. Better.
I’m holding my breath (literally, it kind of still smells like #2),
Global Citizen. Out.