I spent my waiting time in the American Airline's lounge next to my boarding gate. I watched business associates cram around the wireless Internet hubs, I watched travel weary individuals freak out on the unsuspecting employees at the Burger King kiosk. I watched CNN on TV and updated myself with the latest death tolls in Iraq. I watched interviews with senior White House officials. I immediately became depressed and wished for my plane to arrive to rescue me from this dreary atmosphere. I watched a young child throw her drink all over the surrounding seats and the surrounding people who had occupied them. My mind was a wash with the chaos of the terminal.
It was at this moment that I felt a slight tug on the strap of my portfolio bag (man purse). To my surprise and dismay, a young punk around the age of thirteen was trying to claim my baggage as my own. I gave the bag one good tug and rescued my possessions from his grip and with an intimidating and angry stare from my eyes; the punk kid wished me a wonderful and fruitful day, then skipped away (actually he told me to go fuck myself and then flipped my the bird but I preferred my imagination). I had to get out of here.
I spent the next forty-five minutes watching my baggage like a hawk looking over prime hunting grounds. I could not believe the citizens that were surrounding me and I could not stomach the total anger and negative disposition of my fellow passengers. Was this just a bad day, or were all American’s so unfriendly?
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