As I walked through the departure
lounge he attracted my attention. Someone trying so hard to look so
cool. Latino, pinstriped pants, denim button down shirt buttoned
down, newspaper boy cap turned backwards, his body language saying I
am a man- one leg bent, other outstretched, slouching, hand in crotch
gently emphasizing his manhood, brown suede jacket. He was painting
a picture of how we should perceive him and trying to hide the fact
that he was aging. The flecks of white in his hair gave him away.
As I walked into the plane, tiny and
cramped, I looked toward my seat and who should be beside me but the
man himself. Barely acknowledging my presence he shifted his body to
let me into the window seat, promptly fell asleep, mouth agape, and
small streams of drool slowly trickling from the corner of his mouth.
How quickly a persona can be shattered.
The couple across the aisle can only be
described as typically American. She blonde and blue eyed, him broad
and dark haired. Drinking beer, they played Yahtzee through the
entire flight. It was refreshing to see a couple play together and
genuinely enjoy each others company. The skeptic in my wondered how
long it would last.
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