Christmas at the Airport

This is a story about three awesome crazy people I saw at the airport and on a plane on Christmas Day.

I saw this at the airport – on the day that so many people hold sacred, that so many people believe represents light and new hope in the world.

Scenario 1
A guy. If he lived in the South I’d call him a Redneck. But he’s a Bostonian through and through, so maybe he’s a meathead? He has the accent. He’s screaming at a little tiny Mexican lady who was wheeling his luggage in for him from outside. I’m not sure what she did wrong. She put something in the wrong place? But he was yelling at her….”I can’t fucking understand what the F you’re saying anyway. So STOP TALKING”. He gives her ‘the hand.’ And I appreciate his alternate use of “fuck” and then “F”. He continues, “Speak English. I don’t know what you’re saying. Fucking fine. Take my luggage. Throw it away for all I care. I just want to get home. I don’t fucking care! Go away! Go. A-WAY!” He walks off. She walks off. The luggage stays where it is.

I don’t know what happened but it doesn’t take Freud to figure out that maybe someone’s issues come up around Christmas? He just saw his family and now he’s screaming in an airport? Beautiful.

Scenario 2
A man in a motorized wheelchair is at the ticket counter. I can’t hear him but then I hear him yell, “I’ve got to get the fuck out of here! Anywhere! You can’t help me? Bah! Bah!” And he zooms away and starts yelling “Bah” and “Yee-haw” and knocking down the signs that indicate where to stand in line and all the velvet ropes on chrome stands. It’s like a relay race where the goal is to not stay within the lines. No one with authority knows what to do because after all the dude is in a wheelchair. The security guys eventually walk over to him but they are so far away I can’t hear it.

Scenario 3
I’m on the plane, Jet Blue. The stewardess is wearing an antler headband that glows with red lights. A woman wants to sit in the exit row rather than the back of the plane and she asks the stewardess to ask if anyone wants to switch seats. The stewardess goes to handle it but the passenger thinks it’s taking too long (meanwhile the plane has not taken off) and she yells (in a Boston accent), “I’m gonna throw up on your damn antlers if you don’t put me in that exit row!”

I’ll say it again, therapy can benefit everyone.

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2 responses to “Christmas at the Airport

  1. If I ever lose the use of my legs and need to use a wheelchair, I’m so doing it that.

  2. In Scenarios 1 and 3, I think the appropriate nomenclature for those Bostonians is “Mass-holes”.

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