The airport is an odd place.
Anytime you go there, it is kind of a butt clench type of trip.
Nobody really WANTS to go.
Sometimes, you HAVE to go.
Or pick up/drop off someone.
Now that is devotion.
And the International terminal at LAX is the house of horrors.
To start with, its the largest terminal of all.
The ceiling in the main lobby is about 3 or 4 stories high.
And the place is crawling with foreigners.
Maybe thats the problem.
Don’t get me wrong, this is Southern California.
The melting pot of the modern age.
There are a LOT of people from everywhere else than here.
But they are spread out.
At the International terminal, they are CONCENTRATED.
Ok, maybe a little much of the caps.
Anyway, lots of foreigners.
And, people from all other the planet have different ways.
Specifically, how they treat their kids.
I am there, doing an extended drop off, you know, park and go in.
Because I love a show.
And they did not disappoint.
As we are standing at the check in line, I begin to appraise the crowd.
How to do this without being a total racist?
Asians, as a general rule, run a tight ship with their kids.
They don’t take shit from anyone they created.
And I respect that.
Polynesian folk, have some looser rules.
There is a little kid right in front of us currently punching and kicking his father relentlessly.
Dad ignores it right until the kid hits him with a perfect sucker nut-punch.
Now its time to pay the fiddler.
A quick smack on the ass and he goes back to talking to the wife.
The kid proceeds to throw a monster fit, which mom and dad both ignore.
Mid-freakout, the kid spins to his belly and begins beating the ground with his little fists.
And then he licked the floor.
I shit you not.
And not a little stab of the tongue, I’m talking full blown tongue drag for about a foot.
Now, I am sure they clean the floors at some point around there.
But this is how the plague spreads.
I don’t even want to think about whats on the floor in there.
I tried to think about how my own family would have dealt with the same situation when I was that little kid.
And it never would have happened.
You do not sucker punch my father.
My mother would have caught my arm mid swing, with a move like a striking cobra.
And that would have been the beginning of the beating.
God forbid I through a fit at that point.
Because she will give me something to cry about.
Kind of a combination of fear, love, respect, and basic survival.
After checking in, its off to checkpoint Charley, the TSA barricade.
And I get a glimpse only before I flee the scene.
Oh, didnt I mention, I am only dropping off.
I was only here for the show.
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