Airport Lounges
I have been living abroad since 2015 and somehow just discovered the high of airport lounges. The superiority you feel when you waltz in there is just, *chef’s kiss* You scan for all the complimentary beverages, the uniformly cut fruit, the cheese croissants, and you think to yourself, “I’ve got one hour.” And so begins a quest to eat and drink your way through the continental spread. But it wasn’t all glamour. The seedy underbelly of airport lounges is all the sock-less feet. Several people felt so at home that they took off their shoes and their socks, which is too many people without shoes and socks. They were hanging off the shared reclining chairs; walking around for that 3rd cup of mystery yellow drink. It may have all been complimentary, but we paid a price.
(Sun) Burns
Every time I have ever been sunburn I’ve thought, “This is it. This is the last time this will ever happen. I’ll never let the sun boil my skin again.” I let it happen again. I had been good for so long, and I just wanted a little taste of tan. After 2 hours in a pool, it looked like I was wearing an inverted red v neck. I looked like I was in a permanent target uniform from the chest up. As with any sun burn, it led to a lot of emotions and cursing of the day I was born, all the typical stuff. I was woefully out of touch with my outfit choice for the flight home. The grey tank top I wore clung to the deep fried skin, which grew more spiteful with each push of the luggage cart. Every few steps I was lathering my chest with something called Bali Boat after sun. Instead alleviating the pain it made a greenish brown paste between the dead skin and the tank top. When I got to my seat I was on the verge of tears and growing more desperate by the minute. I thought I could go to the bathroom to change my shirt and clean off the glue, but getting past Cerberus would be easier than getting past a Singaporean flight attendant when the seatbelt sign is on.
I paused the serious, Oscar nominated (read boring) movie that I felt socially obligated to be the kind of person who would watch and played Moana, but not even Lin-Manuel Miranda could help me now. The pain made me claustrophobic and panicky. I almost took my shoes and socks off, BUT I DIDN’T. I prayed for the end to come soon and renewed my vow to never get sun-burned again.
Chumma
After two weeks in India my new favorite malyalam word is chumma. Why did you do that? Chumma. Where are you going? Chumma. Can I have some of that? Chumma. Why do people take their shoes and socks off airport lounges? Chumma.
Busy Nothings 