If one more person asks me if it is sore to get a tattoo I may actually explode! OF COURSE IT IS SORE!!!!!!!!!! IT IS A NEEDLE POKING INK INTO YOUR SKIN! But no, I did not cry.
Airports…
December 28, 2009So I am in Detroit airport paying WAY too much for this internet so I thought I would take this opportunity to write a blog. I just needed an address of where I am staying in India and I could either pay $7 for all day or $5.50 for fifteen minutes. I paid $7. And think I made the right choice.
To get to India I will fly from Nashville to Detroit (already done) to Frankfurt to Dubai to Mumbai (formerly known as Bombay) to Chennai.
Here’s some things that stood out so far.
You know, people with tattoos are people too! We are just people…with tattoos! I mean, this one lady was staring at me for a while in Nashville airport and most of her staring was directed at my arm, the tattooed one. Her staring turned to glaring and at one point I expected a laser beam to shoot out. At one point I politely asked her what time it was. She looked at me with a look of relief and shock that I could speak and did not bite her. I seemed to be Airport-trained and safe. She smiled and told me the time.
A cute little kid was reading a comic and I was reminded about how cool kids are and how much I love them. He read this joke out loud to his mom, teenage sister and brother, speaking with a lisp, “The little boy went to the doctor and thaid, ‘Doctor, I need a new butt! Mine’th got a crack in it!” He then laughed uncontrollably, and almost fell out of his seat.
I saw a soldier who is probably 18, but looked all of 16. He was all decked out in army camo and ready to go somewhere. He was all alone. It made me really sad for some reason. I thought about him having to go back, where ever he is going, to fight in some war that probably has very little to do with him. He is young. Was probably just home for Christmas or something, or maybe even going out for the first time. I kind of just stared at him. My heart got real heavy! I had to look away. I focused on the joke-telling kid again. He mispronounced a word and it sounded like a really, REALLY vulgar word. He didn’t catch it, but his family did. Their eyes got HUGE! The snatched the book from his hand and read it but could not find the word. They asked him to read it again and, totally unaware, he repeated the vulgar word. The mom mouthed “Should I tell him?” to the daughter. She shook her head no.
The kid went along and read in bliss and unabandoned laughter, as he read some joke about diarrhea.
Posted by capetownbrown