Clyde finds, once again, cheap Internet tickets … and so: we’re off to Paris.
“Paris!” a friend excliams. “Paris? You just got back from London and Toronto! Now … Paris?”
“It’s just for the weekend,” I say.
She stamps her foot. “That makes it worse!”
So here I am, in the airport in New Jersey, updating the site via a pretty slow AT&T wireless connection. The terminal is bright and airy, but something is going very, very wrong over at the A&W Hamburger stand.
It starts with screaming — a young woman, her hair in dreadlocks, raises her voice and begins broadcasting profanity at the top of her lungs. “Don’t you give me your attitude,” she hollers. “I don’t need no attitude from the likes of you!”
Heads turn. Her beef appears to be with another worker, who appears disinclined to keep her attitude to herself. “You shut your mouth! I’m sick of you! Give me that phone! I quit!”
“You ain’t quitting! I got nobody here but me today! Now shut your mouth!”
This goes on for five minutes. Customers scatter.
The two disappear into a little door behind the counter … but their voices can still be heard, filtered through the thin plaster walls. “YOU … ATTITUDE … SHUT … SUPERVISOR!”
I can’t be bothered.
Next stop: Paris.
I told Jeri that you two were headed to Paris for the weekend. She replied “Those little stinkers!”