Wednesday, December 29, 2010

274. Distraction

So we’ve just landed in California after our long flight from the East Coast. We are taxiing to the gate when I notice the woman sitting across the aisle in starting to play with her hair. Not “play with her hair” like a small child or even a flirty teen-ager: no. Rather, she is holding a small pile of detached hair in her hands and appears to be braiding it.

I stare at the woman, as do my two seatmates: we must look. As a former United flight attendant, I’ve witnessed many bizarre passenger behaviors in my decade-long career, but never this.

I cannot stop gawking. Luckily, the woman is consumed by her “hobby” and doesn’t notice.

Maybe it’s not hair. Maybe it’s just blondish yarn and she is knitting some sort of…… uh….. blonde scarf? or a miniature sweater for a Barbie doll?

After much deliberation (hair? not hair?), I surmise that the woman is making those little braided scrunchies or headband things that they sell at mall kiosks. But I’m still not 100% convinced.

At this moment, my brain entertains several thoughts simultaneously:
  1. I’m glad she didn’t braid the detached hair the whole flight. I never would’ve been able to focus on my Movie Star Weekly magazine.
  2. I wish my 4-year-old were here. He’d say (loudly), “Mom, what is she doing?” and then I’d act all embarrassed and I’d do that Universal Mom Shrug/ Eye Roll Combo to say kids! And then she’d kindly explain to him (and me) what exactly she was doing.
  3. Maybe she’ll sell me one—I could use an I-Dream-Of-Jeannie headband to fix my messy airplane hair.
("Make-Over Variety")

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