I have been told by many that they love when I travel because I always come back with some great stories. I just assumed that everybody had travel experiences like I do but now I'm beginning to second guess that thought. My boyfriend asks why I feel compelled to talk to everyone. I like talking to people. And as my son Jack would tell people when he was little, "I can't help it, that is the way God made me!"
Besides, all of my encounters have really helped me to reflect on what kind of person I am. I use the people I meet as a barometer for what kind of person I am. Certain behaviors of strangers remind me of who I once was, how I am now and what I strive to be like.
Yesterday I was faced with two different beasts. Each taught me a little something about myself. The first flight was only 25 minutes so I figured it would be uneventful especially at 5 in the morning. However I was sorely mistaken as I sat next to rednecks, Jeb, Earl and Vern. The only things that were missing was a banjo, some overalls and a few teeth. I say this as to only give you a visual. However, they have caused me to think that I may have a tendency to stereotype and is probably something I need to work on. In any case, throw in the fact that it was Jeb's first time on a plane and the other two claimed to be experienced world travelers.
As a result, the jet setters found it to be comical how uncomfortable Jeb was with the prospect of a large piece of machinery like the one we were buckled into was going to get us to point "A" to point "B", 35,000 miles above the ground. Breaking out in a sweat, Jeb proceeds to think aloud upon take off as he glances out of his window, "Isn't it funny that the plane just don't fall outta the sky?" I politely respond with a nod and vehemently forced the visual of us actually falling "outta the sky" outta my head. And just as I close my eyes to say The Rosary, funny guy Earl poses the question to Jeb..."Hey, Is that duck tape on the wing?" which was promptly followed by Vern's redneck, creepy giggle. Which ultimately caused my knee jerk New York reaction to look across the aisle and mouth "seriously dude?? You're an a#%!" Thankfully, our interaction was interrupted by the pilot announcing our decent into Charlotte and I could eventually escape the scene from Deliverance...
...Only to be met on my next flight by the Barbara Streisand look alike who was similar in character to Mrs. Focker in "Meet The Fockers". She sat next to me in the aisle knitting. And silly me, I initiated a conversation with her because it was as cold as a meat freezer in the plane and regretfully I asked her if she would knit me a blanket. As she responded to me and we made idle chit chat throughout the flight, I noticed her purse. It was purple with more of a magenta tone, and shaped like a fish with different patterned patches as the scales like one you would buy a three year old at a crafts fair. She noticed my pensiveness which was in reality, the thought bubble over my head that said "What the fu#% is that? and then she claimed that it was "bathroom :30!" which caused another thought bubble saying "What the fu#% are you talking about? And she ventured off to the ladies room.
When she returned from the bathroom, she smelled so good and stupidly I commented, asking her what perfume she wears. Whispering, she responded with "ya know, I get real stinky down there" as she pulled her fish purse on her lap and yanked at it like she was de-hooking the thing. She pulled out a spray bottle with some pastel blue and yellow colors out if the the purse pocket disguised as a fish gill. She proceeded to tell me how it worked like a charm on long trips like these. Speechless, all I could do is throw my head back and silently ask God, "Why me?" Can't I just sit next to someone normal when I travel? Why do I have to sit next to the twit who sprays her twat with pretty smelling perfume?
After regrouping, I excused myself and got up to go to the bathroom. "Oh sure honey. Ooooooh ooooh ooooh but wait, " as she chases me down the aisle reaching into the fish's mouth. "Take the spray!" she offers, (in not so much of a whisper). "I insist", she said. "Try it out and if you like it, you can have it. I have more."
I respond, "No really. It's okay", and briskly walk down the aisle to the lavatory, fussing to open the folding door but its locked. Waiting patiently and trying to keep Mrs. Focker at bay, I hear that sweet clicking sound of the bathroom lock sliding open, doors unfold and who is standing there but the redneck who I called an a#% on my earlier flight. Regretting that I didn't take Focker up on her crotch mace, I looked down and let the redneck pass peacefully.
I went in, locked the collapsible door that protected me from all those traveling freaks, I regrouped and asked God to protect me from falling out of the sky, and prayed that the duck tape was secure and that sweet pants would leave me alone when I got back to my seat. The "Mile High Club" took on a whole new meaning as it turned into more of a sanctuary of prayer for me.
I slithered back into my seat and thankfully my Mile High Cathedral prayers worked because the pilot announced that we were making out initial decent in to San Diego. I gathered my belongings together and reviewed my encounters during my traveling roadshow. And just as I was thinking how crazy Mrs. Focker was, she turned to me and so graciously thanked me for my conversation and wished me safe travels. I did the same and then scolded myself for being so judgy wudgy. And as the wheels touched the ground, she clapped showing her appreciation for the pilot and his crew for getting us there safely...just like my Nana Barry would to do! And that is when I realized that with every interaction with someone, comes something valuable if you are open to it. As for my experience with Jeb, Earl and Vern? I am still not sure about it but maybe can venture to guess that it was the old lesson of treat everyone with kindness because you never know when you will meet again...
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