I read that I should go outside my comfort zone. One way I could do this was to take up an extreme sport like skydiving or tightrope walking in the mountains. Another way was to speak to someone in the line at the grocery store or at a coffee shop. I figured striking up a conversation with someone at the airport would suffice.
I did not get his name, we actually bonded over his dog. A "Westie" by the name of Ronnie something, something, something, something. Anyway, the dog was cute. She was going to Ontario, California to see her boyfriend, although her master assured me it was only a platonic relationship. He, the owner, seemed uncomfortable, apparently he hadn't read the same book and really didn't feel the need to move out of his comfort zone.
The encounter ended when his dog threw up inside her carrier. He cleaned it up and I disposed of the soiled napkins. I found a seat next to a couple that were sleeping.