Airport Antics

Before I start this story, can I comment on how cool it is that Sarah lives in Switzerland now?!?! I want ot be her BFF forever.

OK, on to the story of the day.

We have a long-standing tradition at the farm of embarrassing each other at the airport. I have no idea how it started. We rode stick horses in once to pick up Katie, dressed like farm hands to pick up Sally’s daughter Kim, and one Christmas when Maxwell flew in we brought a huge sign that read, “All I Want for Christmas is Max!” But I think Theresa and I may have outdone everyone a few weeks ago.

Sally is known for wearing ridiculous outfits (spandex pants story to follow soon). Her taste in clothing is great at times, but also tends to fall into the category of eccentric, perfectly matching her personality. So I decided the best idea was to peruse her closet (not an easy task in of itself) and chose the worst clothing we could find, put it on and head for the airport. My always-eager partner in crime, T, agreed.

We chose our outfits, made signs (yes, I spelled couture wrong), had a Margarita, and headed for the airport. AC pre-warned the night guard we were coming to keep us from being arrested. We arrived 10 minutes early, took our positions, and waited. We started getting crazy looks from the onset, and one man thought we were so funny he took a seat next to T and waited with us. When we informed him that we had dressed like the person we were embarrassing, he simply had to meet her.

We waited…and waited… and waited. And we were starting to get itchy, because we had put on some of her bras and stuffed them with socks to try and recreate her huge boobs. At about 9:00 I started getting upset because her flight was supposed to land at 8:30. We had stood and waited while two flights de-boarded and paraded by us. But no Sally. I did a sweep and checked the airport. No Sally. At this point I was freaking out a little and we decided to try and get someone to help us. Now, imagine trying to get assistance from anyone in the Pensacola Airport at 9:30 at night, much less dressed like an idiot with sock-boobs. Eventually, some very nice man managed to ignore our dress code and explained her flight was an hour late. I proposed a drink in the bar, but T forgot her ID so we did an ice cream run instead.

Finally, at about 10, Sally arrived to T and I jumping up and down without signs at the end of the walkway yelling, Sally! SALLY! We looove you! We love you so much, we want to be JUST like you! Look, we dressed JUST like you! See, it’s YOUR clothes!!” In spite of the fact that we were exhausted and a bit deflated by that point, Sally was wishing she didn’t know us! I believe, “Jesus, please don’t let them be here for me,” were her exact words.

Despite a rocky start, I believe that so far T and I win the embarrassing airport moment competition!