I'm a magnet for crazy

... 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.

Why me?

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.