Acting Shady At The Airport

, , , , , | Friendly | August 7, 2018

(I’m a customer, flying out on a Tuesday morning. I’ve driven to the airport, parked in a long-term lot, and am now standing in line for the security checkpoint. I’m idly people-watching when I notice a woman wearing these really long sandals basically made out of lots of straps. It strikes me as pretty impractical footwear for traveling, so I give her a closer look… only to recognize her horizontally-striped shirt and bleached blonde hair from someone who sped past me very aggressively on the highway before I arrived. She’s also wearing large sunglasses inside the airport, so I call her Shades. She finishes checking a bag at the counter and walks over to join the security queue, roughly a dozen people behind me, only to pull out her phone and begin speaking very loudly:)

Shades: “OH, NO, MOM, THIS IS AWFUL. IT’S A CATASTROPHE! MY PLANE IS GOING TO LEAVE SOON WITHOUT ME, AND THERE ARE LIKE EIGHT HUNDRED PEOPLE IN LINE IN FRONT OF ME!”

(A quick count suggests roughly forty people in the line. This is not a bad security queue. I begin exchanging amused and disbelieving glances with the people nearby.)

Shades: “MOM, THEY’RE GOING TO LEAVE WITHOUT ME! I CAN’T MAKE IT IN TIME WITH ALL THESE PEOPLE IN FRONT OF ME! THIS IS SO TERRIBLE! WHY ARE ALL THESE PEOPLE HERE?! THIS AIRPORT IS AWFUL; IT’S NOTHING LIKE NEW YORK!”

(She’s now getting looks from all over the line, but doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.)

Shades: “I’M GOING TO MISS MY FLIGHT, AND IT’LL COST ME AN EXTRA 100 DOLLARS, AND I’LL BE STUCK HERE IN THIS STUPID CITY!”

(I can’t help but laugh. She shuts up for a little while, and then gets back on her phone.)

Shades: *still shouting* “HI THERE, [OTHER RELATIVE]. IT’S AWFUL; I’M GOING TO MISS MY FLIGHT! IT BOARDS SOON AND THERE ARE LIKE FORTY PEOPLE IN FRONT OF ME IN THE SECURITY LINE. I CALLED MOM, BUT SHE WOULDN’T GIVE ME ANY SYMPATHY. SHE SAYS CHARLOTTE IS A NICE CITY AND DOESN’T CARE THAT I’LL BE STUCK HERE!”

(Don’t worry, Shades; we care. We’re all hoping you’ll hurry home; it’s just your mother who doesn’t want you back.)

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