On a recent work trip, I was clumsily making my way from security to departure gate, when something caught my eye in the airport gift shop.
There it was–the “bad” display–an eye-catching, so-bad-it’s-good, naughty-but-nice example of reverse psychology that worked on me for completely different reasons: I smiled (and maybe squealed a little), as if I had caught sight of an old friend.
I always travel with a book–I may pack a good beach read for summer vacation or my next book group pick for a long weekend, or the pages of a book I’m editing (okay, maybe it’s not a book yet) into a tote for the subway ride — but flying falls into a different category for me. I put down the sensible reads (and not going to waste a beach read on the plane!) and pick up a magazine, a puzzle or game book, or something light that will make me laugh so hard I’ll forget that my legs are too long for the space, my headphones don’t work, and there are four more hours before we land.
I turn back to that “bad” display–these are things that we arm ourselves with: Something to keep us laughing to ourselves, silently shaking the seat as we try to contain it. Or something to make us smarter as the air thins and our brains seem to droop a little.
And, I admit, there was this little swell of pride when I realized that wherever I go, there we are. Nestled right between the froggy washcloths and the cowboy-themed tea towels.
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