Here's a Sobsister Tip®: If you're a germophobe, do not hang around the international arrivals area of a large airport for an hour and a half. Because that's like Mayo Makeup!: Best Bukkake #17 for germs of every description. As I could not slather myself in Purell like a Channel swimmer in grease, I held my breath for the better part of those 90 minutes and breathed through my skin as the dancing dots before my eyes bulged into topographical spheres.
I stood in said area and watched a number of planes' disease-vectoring human cargo stagger out to meet rushing hugging family; impassive Africans with little white signs bearing passenger names; or no one. A few observations--
- Qatar Airways hostesses get to wear smart burgundy outfits topped with hats that look like gnocchi.
- Some people vacation with more clothing than I have in my closet, chest of drawers and, possibly, attic.
- French exchange studentesses are invariably cute. I'm extrapolating from the one I saw being met by her new host family, but I'm pretty confident about my calculations.
- Many women arrive in the United States wearing Sharia-compliant clothing. Like the cute 20-something whose hijab was perfectly modest, thereby allowing the gaze to slip down to the v. large T-shirted rack popping out of her gown.
- The difference in facial expression between arriving flight crews and tween travellers is like that between a cathouse madam and a honeymoon bride.
- Grandmothers of all nations have the same cheek-pinch reflex, like a primordial muscle memory or a twitch of the collective unconscious.
- If one young woman meets another who's arriving and says, "Oh my God, I totally want to murder you!," they're probably related.
- Lufthansa crews look like Mad Men in the air. I expect the pilots still playfully swat the stewardess' asses and demand Johnny Walker, rocks, while puffing on Luckys.
Circle of Life! *jazz hands*