Yesterday, I flew back to Chicago. Airports definitely make for good people watching, and my flight was especially interesting with an old man sitting catty-corner from me who talked non-stop. He had a strong Illinois accent, and his enormous bushy eyebrows flared upward at the ends as though trying to fly off his forehead, which I thought was appropriate considering he said that he was a pilot. As our plane took off, he commented to a stewardess, "We have a phrase for this, 'Climbing like a homesick angel,' and this bird does that." I thought it was an interesting saying.
I sat next to a girl who was training to work on an airline. She had a panda blanket, and we chatted about our younger sisters and the holiday movies we wanted to see. (We also shared each other's frightened expressions whenever the small plane hit turbulence and dipped suddenly.) I don't get why some people never bother to strike up a conversation with the person sitting beside them on planes or trains—I suppose I don't get it for the same reason I'll never understand why people (at UChicago) don't always return smiles in passing. Does it really take so much effort to be friendly? What on earth makes people avert their glances in response to a simple smile? I've made it my little project while I'm here to inject my Southern gentility into the student body. Smiles on the quads today, fried green tomatoes in the dining halls tomorrow! (Or perhaps just wishful thinking on my part...)
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