Terminal Trouble

It’s been years since I first rode one of those super fast terminals in the Atlanta airport but I still remember the instant education I got on translating the disembodied voice blaring from the speaker. When the nice lady suggests that you hold on because the train is leaving the station and it will reach a high rate of speed, she is actually saying, “You can either hold on, or you can check out the floor up close and personal; your call.”

Since then, I have never been able to ride that terminal without looking around to make sure everyone around me is holding on to something or someone. Try as I might to stay out of their business, I can’t take my eyes off of the people who jump on without looking up from the smart phones, and if it looks like they aren’t going to find a pole, I will encourage them to before we’re cleared for takeoff. I can’t help it. It’s probably my Southern Mama coming out in me. I just can’t help tending to people.

My last terminal ride reminded me of a good old joke. Perhaps you’ve heard this one, but I’ve got to share. It’s too good to miss.

The way I heard it, a lady boarded a bus and grabbed a hold of the nearest pole. A young man who was also holding onto that pole gave her a quizzical look, but she didn’t think much of it. Several blocks later, the young man cleared his throat. “Excuse me, ma’am, but this is my stop.”

Now it was the lady’s turn to look puzzled. She wasn’t blocking his way.

“Well,” she said, “go ahead.”

“I can’t,” he replied. This is my pole. This confused the lady even more until he added, “I just bought it at the hardware store to hold up my shower curtain.”

 And with that, he picked up his pole and carried it off the bus.

Hugs, Shellie