So I’m not perfect. Family members have told me that my sneezing is so loud and violent, that I can cause a heart attack. I’m not the kind of person that slowly brings a sneeze along and then finally delivers anticlimactically. With me, its kind like the sneeze is in stealth mode lurking in my body. Then when it’s ready to explode, without any warning what so ever, it comes with the force of a raging Tsunami. Lord help you if you’re in the way. And not that I want to get graphic ;-} but unless I’m wearing a catcher’s mitt, the friendly-fire that’s generated by one of these episodes can be catastrophic. (I’m only human).
So we’re at the airport, the Fam and me. We’re waiting for our plane to arrive and take off with us on it. We have a plane and most of the crew. But due to a scheduling snafu, our pilot is just now leaving Mexico to arrive and drive our plane to its destination. (If anyone could figure out why these unconscionable things happen so regularly, they’d most probably also have the ability to pick the PowerBall Lottery numbers too.) We perform our requisite foot stamping, cursing of the airline gods and settle in for a few more hours. My teenage daughter and I decide to get on line at the La Famiglia Italian restaurant in order to bring back some fine dining to our comfortable seats . (Side bar: I am no longer welcome at any La Famiglia restaurant)
There’s an “L” shaped order/waiting line at La Famiglia. As you walk along you can order what you want and then get to the end and pay. The two of us are somewhere in the middle of the line facing each other having a nice conversation. (Remember…the speed of a raging Tsunami) Then with literally a split second’s notice, I feel this Godzilla of all sneezes coming on. Now with only nanoseconds to spare, my fatherly instincts kick in. In a heroic effort to save my daughter, I turn away from her…and the food that’s on the line counter (Yes you’re welcome), and launch my Sneeze and all of the fall out that comes with it into the middle of the room.
Post mortem: I saved a family member that day, but sadly there were two casualties who never had a chance. As I can’t get this vision out of my mind (I‘m hoping that writing about it will be good therapy) I replay it over and over again in slow motion…which is really amazing considering how fast it happened. As I’m turning away from my daughter… and releasing my payload if you will, I open my eyes and look down. Sitting right behind us are two guys (literally 3 inches away) having their La Famiglia meals. All I can say is, “Excuse me” didn’t come close to cutting it. (I have to apologize for the lack of detail, but I’d need at least 3 pages of adjectives to describe the looks on their faces and the motions their flailing arms were making). So now I turn back around to my daughter and expect to get a, “Hey Dad, Thanks for sparing my life.” Instead I’m now facing a stranger. My daughter is completely mortified and staring stone-faced straight-ahead acting like she doesn’t know me. I might have also detected an air of “Why is this grotesque individual trying to talk to me?” So this made things very awkward, as I should have been given an Oscar for keeping it together when I violated these poor guys meals. But the look on her face was too much and I cracked up….still standing right next to my victims who were not in the mood to be laughed at.
Fisticuffs were never had; we didn’t even get to the point where someone said, “Well Oh Yeah!?!” But my daughter did suggest that we should pay quickly, and that I should remain silent (although she didn’t say it that nicely) before these two guys punched my lights out.
