Sitting at Charles de Gaulle in Paris, I am surrounded by so many interesting people! The most interesting of these were there three people that just sprinted past me while sitting patiently at gate E74.
Over the intercom, a voice speaking in French with an Japanese accent called three individuals to the ticket counter. Stress, worry and anger filled the three travelers on one side of the corner. Apathy and annoyance flowed from the Japanese workers on the other.
Having finished their business, the three travelers rushed away to catch their flight at another gate that could have been very far away. The three voyagers were three very different people in body type and fashion sense.
The first voyager to pass, the voyager in the lead, was a young lean man who reminded me at the same time of the hip men I saw in turkey sporting classy Euro-mullets and the brutes I see on T.V. when watching Jersey Shore. He was clearly going to be the first to arrive at the new gate leaving the two others in his manicured wake.
The second was a tall bald guy, a few inches taller than me, wearing a pink button-up shirt and grey dress pants. His style of running was less urgent and vainer. My guess is that, he was aware of the hundreds of Asians gawking at the silly white people who went to the wrong gate.
The third voyager was my favorite. An overweight American in her forties, she wore a tight pink T-shirt and mom pants that probably fit properly during her first pregnancy. I think she has gained weight since then. She was already in a full sweat and out of breath as she passed me just 50 feet away from the ticket counter. I couldn’t help but turn around and watch her as she ran off down the terminal. The other two men were already out of site. Poor woman.
I was sitting in a seat closest to the aisle leaving most of the terminal seats in front of me, all of which were filled with Asians. I turned back around from watching the women leave, and all of the Asians in front of me apparently hadn’t had enough of the spectacle. Their heads were still all turned watching the poor woman bounce away. The spectacle ended with wife turning to husband and brother to sister to share in a short chuckle in mutual appreciation of what just happened. I didn’t have the benefit of a travel companion to laugh along with me. Something about laughing at the expense of another is so much better when there is someone to chortle alongside you. Perhaps that is why I felt the need to write this blog; or perhaps I am just that bad of a person. I blame it on the culture shock.
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