I flew to Tulsa today to help my parents move and unpack and whatnot. They've just moved from Dallas to Tulsa. Traitors to Texas! It's alright, though, because we're from Oklahoma anyway. I was born in Oklahoma City, but only lived there for five years. It's weird how Oklahoma people have the same look about them. It could almost be considered plain, but pleasant. Bright, kind eyes set against thin, sharp facial features. Maybe it's all that Indian blood. While I haven't lived in Oklahoma for years, I always feel completely at home when I come back here. Awful, isn't it?
Of course, the trip to the airport was eventful. Flying is always eventful. One event particularly enjoyable:
I saw a young, blonde woman in a business suit, wearing too much makeup, sitting on her carry-on suitcase as she waited in the "B" line to board our plane. I was in the "A" line. (Yesss.) After waiting for about 5 minutes, she halfway stood and reached forward for her purse. Upon sitting back down on her luggage, she unknowingly pushed it back with her bum before placing her entire weight on the suitcase. She sat, but the suitcase was no longer available. Poor girl made a ruckus falling onto her luggage rather than sitting on it.
I tried not letting on that I saw. I quickly looked away, glancing furtively at the scene whenever I thought it was safe. A bushy-eyebrowed, rosy-cheeked man with gray thinning hair atop his large round head stood behind her, and when she fell, yelled with an unforgettable Oklahoma twang, "Woah!", while extending his arms to break her fall. He failed at his admirable task, but being the country gentleman he seemed to be, the man helped the girl and her luggage off the ground.
"Aw, nobody saw ya but me. I sure saw ya, though!"
A bright red glow attempted to rise to the surface of the girl's caked on face. "Oh, I'm sure plenty of people just saw me completely fall on my ass. But it's Ok. It's ok, I don't mind. I'm fine."
She turned around, once again, sitting on her luggage, the round-faced man standing silently behind her. With each stealthy glance that I dared take, I noticed the man's mouth ferociously fighting an upward turn, finally quivering into a pinched smile, his eyes glittering with laughter. I dared not take any more liberty to look. I dared not make eye contact with the man. I stood straight ahead and wondered if the look on my face resembled his.
That was my favorite part of flying today. My least favorite part was when, hurrying into the airport, my heel slipped off my lady bug sandals, thus breaking a strap and making it impossible to avoid walking with a limp, or barefoot. I tried walking both ways today in the airport. Barefoot was much more fun.