I got on the flight to Phoenix this afternoon, weary, longing to be home, guilty for having made both of my dogs anxious, for having not been around for friends last night, or friends stopping by today, just too busy, too much. I sit down on the airplane and this guy starts chatting me up and all I can ask myself is where is my gun when I need it – or rather where are my earphones or my blindfold or something that can let me just take a chill pill for this three hour and five minute flight. But wait there’s more, it doesn’t end there, I finally fall asleep (literally) and when it is time to get off the plane this young guy greets me as I am walking towards the baggage claim and he touches my shoulder and keeps talking to me and keeps touching my shoulder and finally I’m like what gives? And he says, I want to French braid your hair so bad. I just glare at him.
I move over to the carousel to get my bags and he is still there, lurking, and he says, “I’m good at it. Really you should let me braid your hair.”
And I turned my head and stare off in the distance.
Then he says, “BUT, I can only do it in the early morning.”
Then I know he is clinically insane and I just started laughing – and he said, “Made you smile didn’t I?”
Good grief.