IT'S A WAR-MISE

People who read this blog regularly already know that I am flypaper for freaks. 

It should be no surprise to me at this point of my life, and yet I am still shocked when an incident occurs. I have worked hard at perfecting my "please do not fuck with me" attitude and facial expression, but, apparently, I have yet to reach "fail-safe" status.

Logan Airport is a wonderful place. Terminal B is wonderful , anyway. I can always find an empty or half-full gate at which to sit unbothered to gather my thoughts, read a book, do a crossword puzzle, have a snack, charge my phone, or just to do what I do best: ignore people.

I find a completely empty gate where there must be seventy-five empty seats in multiple rows with gorgeous full-length window-views of airplanes and tarmac. All I want to do is eat the bagel I had shoved into my carry-on and taken through the security check with me. Since the bagel is oozing cream cheese, I figure I should probably sit away from people so I don't frighten them when I wear as much of my food as I eat. I find a perfectly fine seat toward the far end of the gate, proceed to take the bagel out of my bag, and --

Just as I am about to take a bite out of my breakfast, a woman comes and plops her substantial frame almost next to me. She leaves one seat between us. Even worse, she is chatting loudly to nobody. I certainly hope that she has some kind of earbud in the ear that I cannot see, and I hope she is speaking on a phone that I also cannot see.

Normally, I might try to wait a few minutes and genteelly and strategically move to another seat. But, you want to know a secret? 

I don't give a flying good goddamn shit how this rude motherflaming bitch feels.

I snap a picture of how close she sits to me, then I stand, not even bothering to pack my stuff back up but just kind of letting all of my belongings create a wind tunnel as I race by, and I move two empty rows away from her.

Honest to gawd, people. In the immortal words of Midnight Cowboy, "I'm WALKING here!" 

I am begging you all: If you see someone sitting alone in an airport terminal, a restaurant, a library, on the beach,  in their car . . . LEAVE THAT PERSON THE HELL ALONE. I don't care how many social-emotional classes you've taken. I don't give a hoot how many professional developments you have about including the outcasts of society in our everyday lives. I don't want to hear about the warning signs associated with fringe behavior.

Let me assure you that if you start randomly sitting near me, following me, or otherwise engaging me when I am clearly, and I do mean CLEARLY, sitting alone, I will go all mental on your ass.

This is a promise and a warning. It's a war-mise. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to finish my bagel in peace.