So* Here is my rant (upon the request of Jenni and Ryan)*
Recently I decided to visit my good friends Jenni, Betsy, Keith, Ryan and Landon in Orlando. As an early bird, I selected the 6:25 a.m. flight. This was my first mistake.
I arrived early to park in the economy lot and check my baggage. As I was walking to my gate, I said a short prayer about possibly sitting next to a cute guy who is fun with a job and would fall in love with me and that would be my story- a rather good story, as I believe airports to be incredibly romantic due to my repeated watching of the movie “Airplane.” Although I never thought prayer could be a “mistake”, in this case such a hopeful prayer may have been naive.
I purchased my latte and roll and a Time Magazine (a luxury that I rarely allow myself- the magazine- not the coffee). Eventually, I boarded the very few-passengered plane and chose a window seat. I readily accepted that with such few people boarding, the likelihood of any cute, single person my age with a job sitting by me was unrealistic. However, I had my Time Mag, and I was happy.
As I sit down, a man who was at least twice my age with a beard, comb-over and nose hairs long eough that they could be braided and used to bungie jump, asked what brought me to Orlando. I explained about my friends on the same street and the new baby. Now mind you, this is not out of the ordinary. Nashville is overly friendly and your business is everyone’s business. People talk to strangers- no big deal. I sat down in my seat, and he sat in front of me- I thought the conversation was over. Some married guys going to catch up with their wives at a park in Orlando sat across from me, and after realizing the tight squeeze and the low attendance on the plane, one moved over to the aisle seat of my row.
So, here I am with my magazine and my inner dialogue. The plane takes off. Too late for me to jump without dying. The man in front of me turns to ask what I did and where I worked. I am now realizing that he could be a little nuts, and so I answer with as little detail as possible- “I work at the health department.” Then I go back to reading the magazine as if it was the most intriguing thing ever. Like I was reading the body of Hoffa is _______ or Amelia Earhart’s remains were found ________ or the Pulp Fiction suitcase contained______….. I was hoping that my interest in the magazine would help me to avoid any further conversation. But then I remember that I am Susan Miller, and the physics and social norms in my world never ever make any logical sense or go as planned. What happened next is totally true…
The man then turned around, his head poking over the seat and at 6:50 in the morning said to me, “I bet you sure would like to learn how to talk like Goofy.” I made a perplexed face, and I thought about how I really need to always tape my conversations for later enjoyment. Not knowing what to say, I responded, “I suppose that could be something that might come in handy one day.” Now of all my mistakes that day, this is the one that I regret the most. I should have some said something different. This left him enough room to feel like he could give me instruction. The plane is dark and and people are asleep and this guy proceeds to stick his tongue out at me and tell me to place my tongue underneath my bottom teeth. I said, “I am sorry sir, but I can’t do that.” He says, “Sure you can.” Because lunatics do not take no for an answer. He insisted, and I replied, “I am sorry sir, but it is awfully early in the morning to be talking like Goofy.” He then proceeded to talk to me like Goofy. All this time I am thinking- is he hitting on me or is he just crazy? Then it happened. He asked me for my card–my business card with contact information. I, of course, told him that I left everyone of them at home.
Thankfully, he turned around, and that was the end of that.
A few things I learned from this.
Thank God that the married guy moved over to that seat. I believed this deterred Crazy (as I now refer to him as) from moving back and sitting next to me and talking to me the whole time. Who knows how many Disney characters Crazy can impersonate.
Airports are not romantic. In any infectious disease outbreak type movie, airports and international travel are always to blame. Someone sneezes and an hour later a bunch of people are dead and Dustin Hoffman ends up looking for a monkey in California. No good can come of it.
-Susan
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