Tuesday, June 13th 2006
Pink Women
I was very pleased to secure an early flight out of Atlanta to arrive in San Jose at a decent hour. What happened next took me completely off guard and left me more than a little freaked out.
When I arrived at the gate I did my usual, subtle scan for signs of young life; strollers, screams or scurrying toddlers. The area seemed to be void of kids - not a crushed Cheerio in sight. I did see a woman looking rather, um, homely, dressed in a very long pink T shirt that came well below her thighs. It boasted a picture of Tweety Bird and read in bold print at the end “I Do Not Have An Attitude”. It resembled a night shirt that I had seen in Target before. She was going to be, along with her mother, my row partner for the trip to San Jose.
Not long after I sat down I noticed that we were not alone. They each had a stuffed animal with them. The mother looked about mid 50’s and had a poodle in overalls. The poodle was made from what I could only describe as pink shag. Not just any old pink, but an assaulting, violent cotton candy pink. The daughter, in the nightshirt, was 30ish and had a miniature version of the same poodle, designed with the same material. After a few moments it was clear that they were speaking to each other - all 4 of them!
Both women had assigned their respective poodles a voice that was a slightly higher pitched version of their own. Each one was jumping up and down on the service tray as it communicated with either their owner or its sibling. It was kind of weird and embarrassing to witness. The mother began to explain in open dialogue that she was happy not to be too old to “play” and when and if it became time to not play anymore she would be old. All this was channeled through her poodle who bounced around, moving its head from side to side speaking in a frighteningly childish tone.
Whenever one of them would leave the seat to visit the rest room, which was quite often seeing that between the two of them they had consumed a twelve pack of Coke, they would leave the pink poodle propped up in the chair watching the TV monitor in the seat back in front of them. When she would return, the poodle and the other woman would welcome her back and tell her all about what she had missed on Animal Planet while she was gone.
They had a couple of conversations that I overheard, partly out of eerie fascination and partly because I was thinking of documenting this in words. One was how they were glad “Daddy” was not with them because they would have had to pay for two seats again. Apparently he was so large that he required two. They explained to the poodles that they were not fat, and they had lost a number of pounds. They seemed barely able to fit themselves in their own seats, and judging by how they kept the service staff busy with Coke refills, I wondered if the poodles were believers.
Another point of interest was how the women spoke of their travels, not just from city to city, but all over the globe. They spoke of going to New Zealand, Singapore, twice, Thailand and more. I wondered if “Daddy” had to purchase two seats and if the poodles had accompanied them in their international travels. Maybe they had different companions for that sort of thing, like a frog in a tu-tu or maybe a koala in a pair of surf shorts. Either way, I didn’t buy it. I came to the conclusion that they were a pair of women who had a case of borderline personality disorder. They were on their way home on pass and found it satisfying to speak loudly and openly about their worldly experiences.
This is entertaining now, but at the time it irritated me. I chose to turn my twisted little Fractured Fairy Tale incident into something funny, so here we are. I had my camera and I thought briefly of asking the women to either pose for a shot or allow the poodles to. After further thought on the subject I opted against it out of fear of engaging in some sort of dialogue with one of the women or worse, all 4 of them. So I have no proof of my little journey to San Jose. You can choose to believe me or not, but either way you slice it, that shit is warped funny as hell.
Yes insane & too believable for anyone who fly’s a lot. You were smart not to engage them in conversation, some kinds of insanity are contagious… you might have had an overwhelming desire to buy a little stuffed dog of your own & start your own animal show, which coming from a man might be a way to clear the seats around you on your next flight. Just a thought
I think you could of missed out on an interesting conversation. If I were you I would of jumped on in to the conversation and offered up my own brand of insanity. If the situation ever arises again try drawing a face on your hand and talking to them that way. Thanks for the laugh.
Hi Johnny and all of you Hazzarders. This is my first post, but if that kind of story doesn’t inspire you to post, what will?
Maybe you should have told the mother “you’re too old to play” just to see if she rolled over and died. As it is you’re lucky they didn’t feel a bigger need to mark their territory, considering all the Coke refills.
At least, next time someone says that pornstars are the worst kind of exhibitionists, you have the definitive story to shut their mouths
Just reading that story I feared for my life. What a bunch of crazies! Though I am not sure I’d have been able to contain myself from laughing at them.