Happy Halloween to all you Halloweeny type people out there!! Have fun and be safe tonight if you’re heading out…although it is a Monday so I’m assuming that most of you celebrated over the weekend, judging by what I witnessed on Insta, and by Mikaela’s full four day schedule of parties.
As you know from past posts I find the whole running to the airplane door before it’s even open so bizarre. I also find it fascinating to watch people “wog” it out to immigration. Like some people are in a serious rush, like breathing down your neck on the moving sidewalk sort of rush. I get it, some of you have connecting flights that you’re dangerously close to missing, you need to hustle and I respect that. I’ve been in your shoes and I do motivate in those instances. But the rest of you airport rushers are just plain rude. Last night, I was lucky to be traveling with Yannick which meant that all the running airport commentary that I usually have going on as inner dialogue last night I was able to entertain him with instead. Remember when I first started this blog and told you all that it would provide him with some relief now that I would be sharing these things with you; since he wouldn’t be the only person on the planet who has to hear my daily musings of the shit in the world that makes me go “hmmm.”
Last night was a prime example of how my husband was a sitting target.
There we were on the moving sidewalk, walking as fast as we could, given all the other travelers in front of us, and yet even though we were literally going as quickly we could there was still one guy behind Yannick literally breathing down his neck, trying to squeeze past him on his left. Keep in mind that Yannick was walking as close to the railing as he could without rubbing against it, and I was beside him. I was chatting away at him about my observations of; “I don’t even understand the whole rushing, trying to push past people only to end up behind an entirely new group of people. Like why do you think people do that? It seems ridiculous to me that people just shove past one set of people to end up in a line behind a new group of other people. I mean they’re likely just going to end up at a line at immigration anyway. And if not there, then they’ll be waiting at the luggage carousel, or when they get in their car to get out of the parking structure. It’s truly so bizarre to me that people do that, like how much time do you think they actually save…2, 5 minutes???”
To be honest, I had two vodka waters and a glass of wine over the course of the 4.5 hour flight, plus I completed another chapter in my non-fiction parenting book so I was pretty pumped, and pleased with myself. And mostly happy to have a live person to share my airport musings with, so I do know that I was going on and on and on about it. But God bless Yannick he was just listening and agreeing, saying he also doesn’t understand why people rush anywhere. You see, Yannick is so not a rusher. Like ever, at all. He never does it, so he really doesn’t get why others do it, but feels very much “to each his own.”
Anyway, my out loud musings clearly really pissed a short man who was behind us, off. As he FINALLY caught the “inside lane” shoving past Yannick on his way to the escalators down to immigration he looked over his shoulder and yelled; “It’s because you’re an idiot who obviously doesn’t travel enough!!”
Yannick was stunned into silence. I laughed, and said; “dude seriously I travel plenty. I know about traveling and I know about people.”
His response was; “And you’ve got bad hair.”
What does that even have to do with anything? And besides that I happen to know quite confidently that I have AMAZING hair so fuck you, short man with the cheap suit and the hair cut from the 80’s. Like excuse you very much. None of these things I said out loud, although I wanted to, but truth is what’s the point in tearing down a man who clearly already has so much that he’s fighting against within himself. I mean there were dozens of people within earshot of my airport musings, and only he, the small one with the incredibly bad hair, took issue with it. I’m sure lots of people thought I was an absolute loud mouth asshole, but didn’t feel the need to go at me. I suppose what I was saying resonated within his rude self, and he felt personally attacked. Or maybe, judging by the way he was dressed he was getting into character for his Halloween costume of giant 80’s douche.
Yannick and I got to the stairs, while he got in a very large line of people waiting to go down the escalator and I looked back at him and said; “Yeah you’re right. I definitely don’t travel often enough to know that the stairs going down to immigration are always faster.”
Then I looked at my poor husband, caught between a rock and a hard place, with his jaw clenched tight enough that I worried he would break some teeth.
“I can’t fucking believe that just happened. I can’t believe that asshole spoke to you like that. Knowing that there’s not a damn thing I can do or say about it, because, if I punch him in the face like I wanted to, then I’m getting arrested at the airport and there goes my Nexus and my Green Card. Along with the fact that I’m Murdoch on our public broadcaster so I cannot defend you either way…”
My poor hubby, hands tied behind his back, got to live like a woman in that moment.
When we have to deal with misogynistic pricks, sadly all too often. He too got to be helpless. Having to just accept it when men treat women in a way that I’m confident they would never want their wives, daughters or mothers to be treated…and yet on and on and on it goes out there.
My very real fear being that if Trump actually wins, we’re only going to see more of this abuse from men to women. One can only pray that those of you raising this next generation of men break the cycle…