people-watching at the airport is always pretty prime. but sunday people watching is better than any other day. no boring business folks (unless it's someone who works for my old company, but that's a different post) -- it's all goofy tourists on sundays. or, more specifically, tourons. my coastal family members love that word: tourist + moron = touron. there are plenty of them around the beaches, and even more on any given sunday at the airport.
i shouldn't throw stones. i'm on my way to touron-central, and my plan is to drink mai tais and sit in the sun all week. this will probably result in a few moronic moves on my part, but i'm really not all that concerned.
until then, i'm just going to make fun of everyone here in the airport. gawd, i wish my camera phone was worth a shit.
there was one lady in the starbucks line at atl with sparkly purple flowers in her hair. a la carmen miranda. but this lady was about 5' 1", in her 60's, and looked like a kindergarten teacher in east cobb. S, picture your mother-in-law. but S's m-i-l would be wearing that as a joke and/or wouldn't wear them with matching spangled purple t-shirt and socks. with sandals. awesome.
i would also love to have gotten a picure of the stellar femullet in front of me in clt. (what a horrible airport code, btw. if you don't get it, you're not thinking dirty enough.) if we were in atlanta, i'd assume she was a self-confident lesbian. but the stonewashed jeans, white tennis shoes and awful accent hint at straight (or closeted) from the kountry. pronounced "kuuuuntry."
not last and not least was the group of old hippies in front of us at clt. 60-yr-olds in tie dye, cargo pants, and chacos. with socks. they at least had an excuse: a) they're from vermont and b) they're on their way to the caymans for a diving trip. i'm not going to make too much fun because i'm jealous. that, and karma is a bitch.
yep, best sport since football. plus, it doesn't require me to be coordinated.