Hot Chocolate in LA

I wish I were more acquainted with the floor. It seems to be everybody's best friend. Stare at the floor. Count the tiles. Avoid the cracks. But whatever you do, don't make eye contact with the person walking towards you. The person with a personality. The person with a religion. The person with a history. But the ground those people walk on is always more interesting. 

I've been in the LAX airport for 48 minutes now. I walked around for a bit and tried to find a coffee shop that sold hot chocolate.

Okay. First off. Rant. Tangent. Social kenundrum. Nobody sells good old-fashioned hot chocolate anymore! It took me 17 minutes to locate a hot beverage that wasn't coffee!

Then I sat on a ledge that overlooks an escalator, munched on a warm chocolate muffin, and sipped away at my hot chocolate. Yum. Who wouldn't be smiling? 

So I'm smiling. Honestly, I haven't been able to stop smiling all morning. I'm in Los Angeles, which is gorgeous. Overcast, warm, and calm. I'm going to see my best friend for the weekend and I kind of can't hold my pants on because I'm so excited. I'm in a smiley mood. 

So far, two stewardesses and three pilots have returned my smiles. Everyone else is fascinated with this carpet! It really is nice carpet, but it's a shame that living, breathing people don't render the kind of response that the floor receives. 

My brown paper bag with gooey chocolate muffin lining the sides will smile back at me. 

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