Airport Tourettes

I realize I have not written a new entry in quite some time and that this has left some of my readers unsettled (and somewhat cruel. I think it is a good time to remind everyone that patience is s VIRTUE). I have taken the days that I have spend recovering from a debilitating Central American stomach bug to reflect on my recent travels and, as a result, will have some new blog entries within the next few days.

This trip I have diagnosed myself, after years of suffering, with having a strange, unavoidable 'tick' that begins as soon as I enter an airport, that I now refer to as "Airport Tourettes." Once within the cold and sterile confines of a bustling airport I find it near impossible to avoid extremely inappropriate outburts of words and phrases that should most definitely be avoided in a post 9-11 world. "bomb." "terrorism." "drug traffic-ing." Never do I feel the urge to discuss these things more strongly as I do within airport walls. In no real context, rarely even in full sentences. Just loudly. To as many people as I can see. For the entire duration of my time spent in said airport (or, given a transfer flight, any airport).

While traveling alone this is not as big of a deal as (1) I have less of an opportunity to start conversations and (2) does not create as much embarrasment for those associated with me. I have been afflicted with the problem for as long as I have been flying and have been frequently, and rightly so, admonished for it. I fully realize that the only reason I get away with this is because I'm a 100 pound white girl who's upper arm strength rivals that of a baby chipmunk, and that there's probably only a limited amount of time that I can continue this without serious repurcussions. (Before my 'crazy eyes' inevitably set in full force and I begin fully bowing to my paranoid views of the world by wearing post apocalyptic survival gear and using bear urine for perfume - I assume it will repel most any creature that is afraid of a bear: i.e. most creatures).

If I may give an example of one of my blush-inducing interactions that took place last week (with a US customs official no less. and yes, this really happened...):

Customs Official: "And ma'am..." [Sidebar: this was ridiculous. He had my passport IN HIS HANDS. He knew I was 21. Clearly I am a MISS. Is it too early in life for me to be offended by people calling me ma'am? I was.] "...what was your primary reason for traveling to Costa Rica?"

ME: "Sex tourism." [Why? It literally was an instant reaction. It was not an OPTION for me to respond this way, it was organic. What. is. wrong. with. me?] "...no, I'm just kidding. I have no idea why I said that. I went to visit my sister. She's not a prostitute." [There was no stopping me.].

Customs Official: [Pauses. At least he looked kind of amused. Thank God. Those customs people can be BRUTAL. Hands me my passport.] "Go through."

And I wonder why I get pulled aside and searched every time I travel. Mystery solved.

Mutton Chops

Facial hair. This is my go-to conversation starter (which is perhaps the reason I have trouble meeting new people). It usually starts out innocently enough, a comment about the state of one's own beard, or how great one would look with a beard, or (if I am talking to a female) I will point at someone and talk about their beard (or lack thereof). And so I whet my appetite for facial hair in this unobtrusive, familiar territory. I can then make natural segues into other styles of facial hair - first a goatee, then a mustache, then a handlebar mustache, and finally, my natural resting point - mutton chops. I have learned, in somewhat devastating social interactions throughout the years, that it is vital to never initiate a conversation with talk of mutton chops, as this is not considered a normal or interesting conversation topic to the average person.

What's the allure of mutton chops, you might ask, and why have I decided to dedicate this blog post to them, when it is clear they are already prominent topic in my life? Well, my dear friends, to answer these questions I will take you all on a journey to a small Pennsylvania drinking establishment...

[here you would imagine twinkling music and/or some kind of fuzzy fade-out to cement the fact that you're time-traveling to last Saturday night]

I had agreed to go out with my parents for a casual drink, and my expectations for the evening were low. While on a dance floor that I had created of my own accord (i.e. I was the only one in the bar dancing) I spotted them across the room. They. were. outstanding. The most glorious pair of mutton chops I have seen outside of an 18th century portraiture. This man was stately, regal, wordly, and just a touch of a badass, clearly. I couldn't keep my eyes off of him. Luckily I have dance moves that attract a certain amount of attention, and I believe I subconciously lured him over. (Coincidentally I was also near the pool table, which also may have lured him over, as the only attention I was actively getting was from a man in flannel with very few teeth who clearly had no one in his life.)

I spent the rest of my evening observing his every interaction, when fate (or thirst) struck and drew him to the bar. He sidled next to me and attempted to get the busy bartender's attention. It was now or never. I looked over at him. I looked back at my drink. I looked at him again, and cleared my throat. What follows is an exact transcript of our conversation, the likes of which I can never hope for again. This, my friends, could have been the greatest night of my life.

Me: Excuse me, could I ask you a question?
Mutton Chops: Me? Sure.
[he was friendlier than I could have ever imagined, I almost passed out at this point]

Me: Would you... Do you have... Would you call those... mutton chops?

Mutton Chops: I would.

Me: Proudly?

Mutton Chops: Very.
Me: I just wanted to tell you that I'm a huge fan of the look, and you wear them well.

Mutton Chops: Thank you! You don't see them much around here, they're way more common in the south.

Me: Well, they look great.

Mutton Chops: Yeah, I'm just trying new things out, I recently had a mohawk that I shaved off for a job interview. [I would like to forget this part forever, but this is an honest transcript of the conversation, so alas, it must remain.]

Me: I mean, your face is a canvas.

Mutton Chops: That's so true. Hey, what's your name?...

[fade back to the present]

Unfortunately, any true connection we might have established was swiftly ruined with my father and his damned drunken friendliness. He walked over and hijacked the conversation and Mutton Chops quickly found an excuse to spirit away from his incessant chattering. Nevertheless, it was one of my life's proudest moments, a climactic experience that has left me wondering if I have peaked at 21. Will life be a downward spiral from this momentous point on? Dear readers, only time will tell. I can only hope that there are more Mutton Chops out there and this chance encounter marks the first of many to come.

'Deal Breakers'

For this post I am borrowing a classification from the illustrious Tina Fey, who I unfortunately identify closely. In this case, though, I'm not talking about relationship deal breakers. Frankly, I have no idea what those would be as the only thing that really takes someone out of the running at this point in my life is their species (but at the rate I'm going, it's only a matter of time until I begin to develop some pretty close and tender relationship with a trove of cats, who I will lovingly refer to as 'the kids' as we eat tuna and watch Wheel of Fortune together). At any rate, for this post I've got a list of characteristics that have been causing me a great deal of frustration and distress. As a result of dealing with these unfortunate personalities I have decided it would be better for my mental wellbeing to just turn around when I meet anyone with the following traits.

1) People who "don't watch t.v.": Not people who rarely watch t.v., as I understand - I am not a fan of sitting mindlessly in front of a t.v. set for hours. No, I'm talking about the peopel who go out of their way to inform you that they don't watch television, that it's a waste of time, that it rots their brains or (good lord, this is the worst) it's turning us all into homogenous advertisment-obeying bleeting sheep nation. It's no longer an entertainment vessel, it's a moral issue. With the latest season of Lost I've been experiencing this more and more often. It has done nothing but allow me to realize that we will have very little in common and I will not enjoy the conversation to come. (Trust me, I don't want to talk about NPR or the 'lost art of communication.' Let's just nip this friendship in the bud.)

2) Use of 'lol' 'bff' 'lmao'...etc. Any abbreviation that I'd need to look up online. It's just not worth my time to decipher that drivel. Listen, I'm not in the navy for a reason. Morse code? No thank you.

I will also include in this category people who use these abbreviations ironically. Eventually the line blurs and becomes a part of their normal vernacular, thus defeating the whole irony concept.

3) Chronic pessimists - i.e. miserable people. If 90% of your communication is acidic, just stop speaking. It's that simple.

4) Anyone who talks so much that they don't noticed that I've stopped listening to them. If I wanted a monologue, I'd read some Shakespeare, at least then I can be pretty confident that I won't hear every detail of your trip to the dentist last Wednesday. I will bundle in this category 'people who don't understand the concept of a conversation.' (i.e. a back and forth, not just using a period when another person is speaking as an opportunity to catch one's breath). I will often test to see if I'm in a conversation with this sort of person by injecting a sensational fact or fictional hypothetical (If you found out Johnny Law was out to get you for a felony that you didn't commit, would you run, or lay your trust in the justice system?) and gauge reactions (I've done that to my boss once and she literally just disregarded the comment and kept on describing every gruesome detail of her carpel tunnel surgery to me). I have yet to come up with a graceful way of avoiding encounters like this, and I currently have too many of these sorts of people in my life.

5) People who like to talk about politics. There are two ways this can end: (a) confrontation complete with yelling, spittle flying everywhere, and possibly tears or (b) a kumbaya drum circle. I'm equally uncomfortable with either result.

I've lost steam, but I feel like this is a good character judgement short list.