SIGHTINGS IN JFK
I am currently in JFK airport, waiting for my flight to board. Because my flight heads to Fort Laudy (local colloquialism for Fort Lauderdale), I am surrounded by an assortment of nut jobs. Here’s some of them:
1.) After walking in circles for ten minutes, trying to find a row of seats for all her purses, a Miami Miss Havisham sits next to me. Her ankles are as thin as my thumb and are about to break out of her skin. Her pastel pink alligator bag is sitting by my foot. Her hair’s died blonde and straightened. She’s wearing a peach suit jacket, long white skirt, and hipster glasses—the classical Miami mix of tacky eighties pastels and the latest fashion trends. She speaks in a strange mixture of Alabama twang and Boca Jew squeak.
2.) A Spanish woman glares at me for ten minutes. I am not sure what I have done to her.
3.) An American mother stands against the security railing, waving goodbye to her French speaking children who shout “Mommy! Mommy!” The girls’ divorced father tries to lead the little Eloises through the line. Instead his little animals climb onto a tray meant to carry white bins and skip around in circles. The incompetent father asks the four year old to remove the three year olds velcro shoes. Instead of unvelcroing the pink sneakers, the older sister yanks them off, throwing her little sister into my open suitcase. As their father raises his arms to walk through the metal detector, the girls copy him, resembling Peter Pan’s lost boys who followed Peter into the depths of Never Neverland’s freedom. These girls probably live in South Beach and will attend my high school, where they will develop a cocaine addiction and learn to dance on tables at clubs, taking off their clothes and justifying it with their “daddy problems.” They will call this behavior their “freedom.” Follow your Daddy into the flames of misery and break my heart, little kitties!
4.) A posh gated community family leaves their grandmother in a wheel chair by the gate. What ever happened to respect for the elderly? Oh, that’s right. They took the respect, moved to Weston, and deposited their grandmother in a Boca home. Disgusting.
5.) I have seen more races and senior citizens on this plane than I have seen in New York City in six months. I genuinly miss this part of Florida.
6.) Terminal 5 always plays eighties one hit wonders. Who gave JetBlue permission to hack into my itunes?
