I’m back. Thankfully, I did not die over the last few days (although there was one point in which i thought my death was possible - more on that soon), and so I can now resume my posting for all of you, my loyal blog readers.
My journey began last Friday with one of the strangest encounters I’ve ever had with an airport security screener. Now let me first say that I have been subjected to random security searches in the past and though I find it highly unlikely that terrorists would attempt to use airplanes to attack us again, I still can understand the need for said searches. What confuses me though, is the exchange I had with the security guy right before I stepped through the metal detector. It went like this:
Him: Boarding pass.
I had him my pass.
Him: What’s your name?
Me: Um, Alex
Him: How old are you?
Me: 27
Him: Where are you flying to?
Me: Newark
Him: What’s your favorite color?
Me: Uh, green.
Him: What’s your favorite film?
Me: I can’t really name one, if you’d like I can list a bunch that I like.
Him: Fine, tell me who’s on the head’s side of a US penny?
Me: Lincoln.
Him: Okay, you can go.
Now, again, I answered these questions honestly (though in retrospect I’m not sure if I’d say green is really my favorite color over say blue and grey - it’s probably a three way tie), but with a bit of confusion in my voice. So as I walked away towards my gate, I was just confused more than anything as to what spurred this decision to interrogate me in such a strange manner. Was he profiling me? Trying to gauge my level of nervousness as he asked me these seemingly random questions? What if I had answered differently? Would that have led to problems?
For example -
Would it have been bad if I had said that my favorite color was blood red?
or
My favorite film was Paradise Now?
or
That Mohammed was on the penny?
Presumably, one would think, that these answers would raise some kind of flag - but then again, presumably, terrorists probably wouldn’t give these answers. So, I’m not really sure what was going on. Some people have suggested that perhaps the guy was just bored and wanted to mess with someone and I looked like a guy who wouldn’t get too upset by it. Which I suppose I can understand - oh, except for the part about the airline security guy being bored and instead of actually trying to prevent terrorist attacks spending his time at work messing with people by asking them pointless questions. Other than that, it makes complete sense.
Anyways…
Saturday was spent going with my parents (did I mention that part of my trip was spent at my parent’s house - albeit a brief part) to pick up their new dog, Ruby.
Ruby is a Golden Doodle (which is a cross between a golden retriever and a poodle), and she is absolutely adorable. 
Ruby, along with being adorable, should also be a candidate for MENSA for dogs - if such an organization exists. I’ve never seen a puppy so well-behaved or good natured (which i suppose in and of itself is not a sign of intelligence, but it was the best analogy i could come up with). Through three days of being at my parent’s house, Ruby has yet to have an accident in the house, has already started to scratch at the back door when she does need to go out, hasn’t cried at all at night, and has already learned to recognize her name. As my parents so eloquently put it:
My Mom: Not that I loved him any less, but Ruby is definitely a lot smarter than Ranger (my first dog - he passed away a few months ago) was as a puppy.
My Dad: Are you kidding me, she’s (Ruby) smarter than Alex.
Which I really couldn’t argue with, because I did in fact cry a lot my first few nights at home, it presumably took me longer than a few days to recognize my name, and I definitely went to the bathroom whenever and wherever it suited me. Though as I pointed out, I was smart enough to never lick my own ass, so there has to be some credit given on my end.
On Sunday I went to an engagement brunch for one of my best friends (and college roommate) and his fiance who I am also friends with from college. The brunch was held at a country club in Pleasantville, NY and it was a wonderful time. Since I’ve been living out here (and previously in Miami and New Orleans) I don’t get to see a lot of my friends from college as often as I would like, so it’s always nice when I do have the opportunity (especially under such joyous circumstances).
The most amazing thing about the brunch was the fact that the guy who worked the coat room didn’t give out stubs when you checked your coat. “I don’t need to, I’ll remember,” he said. I have no idea how you could manage to keep that many coats straight after 4 or so hours coat room guy, but I am indeed impressed. Although, I must admit, during the brunch I was kinda worried that I was gonna get the wrong coat back and never know the difference - because I had borrowed a coat from my father, so it was the first and only time I’ve ever worn - until I got back to my parent’s house and my father asked, “who’s coat is that?”
Anyways, here are some things I learned at the engagement brunch -
Pink is the new blue.
If you decide to drink mimosas be prepared to be made fun of (especially true if you are also wearing a pink shirt).
And a lot of girls I know from college wear way too much makeup (though, I can’t remember if this was always the case - I suspect it is).
Then came the trip home - which brings us to the point in the story when in which I neurotically considered the possibility of my untimely and tragic death.
I was boarding the plane and came to my row only to find an Arabic man sitting in my seat. I told him politely that he was in the wrong seat, and after muttering something under his breath he moved into the middle seat, as I took my place by the window.
Once settled, I buckled myself in and in doing so saw on the armrest a crudely drawn picture of a Star of David next to a gun firing bullets in the star’s direction. Immediately, I started to think the worst, that I might not only be seated next to a terrorist (or a Jew-hater), but that I had just pissed him off.
This led to my immediate assessment that if he was a terrorist, I would be the first one killed — seeing as how he would have to, in order to attempt to gain control of the plane, kill someone immediately, and I was now the prime candidate.
Rather than say anything to the flight attendant (which would only have caused either a. a long delay or b. a potentially innocent - seeing as how the grafitti could have been there before he ever sat down - man being removed from the plane and/or harrassed), I decided instead to just keep a close watch on the guy and monitor the situation.
Soon the meal was served, a beef sandwich, and as I watched him take a bite my mind raced…did Muslims not eat beef along with pork, or was that just Hindus? If he was a terrorist would he be willing to eat the beef in order to keep his cover? Why didn’t I keep bacon strips on me at all times for such an occassion?
Then I started to dissect things even further - if he was a terrorist, why would he have wanted to sit by the window? One would think a terrorist would want the aisle seat, in order to have easier access to the plane. What good would a window seat do? And why would a terrorist draw on the armrest, isn’t that too much of a risk of tipping your hand before you act? I would think that not drawing Jewish stars and guns on the airplane’s armrest is covered in Al Qaeda training camps.
As the possibilities continued to run through my mind, I finally noticed him start a conversation with the woman seated in our row’s aisle seat and at one point he touched her arm - this I assumed was finally enough proof that he was not an Islamic terrorist, and rather just some dude.
So I finally relaxed and went to sleep.
Later I woke up still alive and overheard him tell the woman that he lives in Burbank and owns a jewelry store.
Then we landed…and here I am alive and recounting the past few days events for all of you…
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