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rsadelleI felt a little queasy when I got off the plane in San Francisco on Thursday, so instead of having lunch, I just hung out to wait for my plane to LAX. I didn't feel like digging out my book, so I people watched and tried to guess people's stories.
There was the guy with his very young daughter: obviously he has part-time custody. He was taking her on a dream vacation to make up for all the time he's not there. There were the two guys with eye-dizzying officewear shirts: clearly they work in the kind of place with cubicles. Although they're important enough to travel, they're not going far until they learn that there's a reason most corporate types wear shirts that look all about the same. There was the guy with headphones and non-dizzying stripes of varying widths and colors including pink: grad student or creative professional of some sort, probably gay.
And then there were the guys who were clearly together but drifted in one by one. Two of them looked a bit like the punk roommate from Dead Man on Campus, but they didn't seem to have British accents. Then there was the large friendly looking guy. Clearly a punk band with this one guy who gets along with everyone. Except then other guys filtered in and they didn't all look alike. If I were a different kind of person, I would have gone up to them and asked, "Are you a band? Tell me your story." Alas, I am not, and I amused myself by watching them.
Because we were on the same flight, the band was standing near us as Meagan, Melle, Taz, and I waited for my luggage to make its way out onto the carousel. (My bag was the absolute last one.) I was glad to see that some of their luggage looked like musical instrument cases (unlike the rest of it, which was backpack style stuff); it meant my instinct about them being a band rather than aimless travelers was right.
On Sunday evening, Meagan, Melle, and I, with Sorcha for a while, kicked back to watch the Oscars. After saying, "Why Beyonce?" a couple of times, we finally got to something we liked: "Accidentally In Love" by the Counting Crows, actually performed by the Counting Crows. Halfway through the song, Meagan said, "Those are the guys from the airport! No wonder they kept looking at me like they thought I should know who they were."
There was the guy with his very young daughter: obviously he has part-time custody. He was taking her on a dream vacation to make up for all the time he's not there. There were the two guys with eye-dizzying officewear shirts: clearly they work in the kind of place with cubicles. Although they're important enough to travel, they're not going far until they learn that there's a reason most corporate types wear shirts that look all about the same. There was the guy with headphones and non-dizzying stripes of varying widths and colors including pink: grad student or creative professional of some sort, probably gay.
And then there were the guys who were clearly together but drifted in one by one. Two of them looked a bit like the punk roommate from Dead Man on Campus, but they didn't seem to have British accents. Then there was the large friendly looking guy. Clearly a punk band with this one guy who gets along with everyone. Except then other guys filtered in and they didn't all look alike. If I were a different kind of person, I would have gone up to them and asked, "Are you a band? Tell me your story." Alas, I am not, and I amused myself by watching them.
Because we were on the same flight, the band was standing near us as Meagan, Melle, Taz, and I waited for my luggage to make its way out onto the carousel. (My bag was the absolute last one.) I was glad to see that some of their luggage looked like musical instrument cases (unlike the rest of it, which was backpack style stuff); it meant my instinct about them being a band rather than aimless travelers was right.
On Sunday evening, Meagan, Melle, and I, with Sorcha for a while, kicked back to watch the Oscars. After saying, "Why Beyonce?" a couple of times, we finally got to something we liked: "Accidentally In Love" by the Counting Crows, actually performed by the Counting Crows. Halfway through the song, Meagan said, "Those are the guys from the airport! No wonder they kept looking at me like they thought I should know who they were."