|... and then into IAD and then into Kuwait|
Waiting for the plane at the gate at Dulles, I see this guy who looks like a cross between Howdy Doodey and a homeless person. He’s got crazy hair, crazy eyes, and he’s wearing a plaid suit that must have been at least 40 years old; wrinkled, unclean, and enormous on him. He’s also wearing a baseball cap and very large shoes. Yes, clown-like. ... And clowns frighten me.
There are many people around, yet he comes directly towards me and asks, “I’ve been trying to find a way out of here. I just want some fresh air.” I look up and say, “Excuse me?” with kind of a chuckle. (Maybe my sister paid someone to come play a prank. Who knows?) “Yes, I want to go outside to get some fresh air, but I can’t find a way out.” I said, ‘Well, you can take a tram to the main terminal and go through immigration and back out….’ Howdy is like, “No. I just want some fresh air.” And walks away. (Maybe I should have sent him through one of the security doors that are "alarmed"?) Turns out he was coming to Kuwait. That’s all we need. One more…
Is it me?
So, I board the plane and I’m having a very nice conversation with a very nice woman seated next to me. (Actually, I talked to her for a few hours into the flight. She was fascinating. I never talk to people on planes because well… I’m a magnet for crazy and usually it doesn’t end well. Like the time I spoke to a crazy Kuwaiti woman who got shetfaced drunk and howled in laughter most of the flight. Bygones…) Anyways, Nice Lady and I are chatting and some guy I’ve never seen before walks up, looks straight at me and said something I couldn’t hear and looked very upset and walked away. Nice Lady didn’t hear him either.
So we get to Kuwait International Scareport and I’m standing in the immigration line and a big American dude walks over (through the crowd of people) straight to me and says, “Do I need a visa to this country?” Whaaaaaaaaaat? You fly 13 hours on a plane to a foreign country.. might you not ask that first?
(This isn’t related to “magnet for crazy” but it was the cherry on the top of my crazy re-entry trip…) My friend, Hmood, was to pick me up at the airport. I no longer ask/want people to come into the airport to greet me because it is such a goat rodeo and finding parking is like going to Mall of American 2 days before Christmas. Not happenin’. Anyways, I expect him to pick me up in either his pick up truck or his Chevy sedan. But no… he has just bought his girlfriend a frog-green VW Beetle convertible and has come to get me, driving it. (BTW – NOT masculine!) I have 2 bags which were so large that they could have accommodated dead family members; one of the bags is Pepto Bismol pink. Beetles can’t handle big bags (also don’t do very well with big drivers – just sayin’). So, we drove down 6th Ring Road with the top down in a green frog-like car with my Pepto-pink bag teetering on the back seat. How bizarre.
I haven’t been out much since I got back to Kuwait a little over a week ago because I’ve been very busy and I’m tired. But, last night I’m walking da dawg on the Gulf Road. An American woman in a car stopped so that her (maybe husband?) could look at Mikey. They kinda stared for an inappropriately long time (with cars behind them). I wondered if I was about to be kidnapped. (I’m too old for that shit, really.) The woman explained that her (maybe husband?) used to have a dog like Mikey. I told them they should go to the Saturday afternoon dog gatherings at Messila. She said, "Do you know Tara?" (Literally hundreds of people attend these gatherings.) I said no. She said, "Oh.... are you new?" (end of conversation - they had to move along). Huh? So, do any of you guys know Tara? I've been in Kuwait 18 years and I don't know Tara. Who tha phuck is Tara? Well, if she’s crazy, she’ll probably find me.