| FROM THE MUSE | BY MADELEINE JOUNG | MAY, 2013 |
You don’t know how it happens, because you’ve been making an effort to avoid cutting someone off with the Smartecarte, but your luggage is suddenly blocking the path of a tired-looking guy in camouflage. His backpack smells like sweat, and you judge him for it before you can remind yourself that you too really need a shower. Those sappy reunion YouTube videos that your ex-boyfriend’s sister used to forward in chain email come to mind, and at the same time your luggage falls on the floor, and sh*t you are photobombing (videobombing?) one of those videos. Wait, but there’s no camera. And the guy is looking at his phone anyway, and could probably leap over your luggage cart if he really had to (he’s probably cleared five feet before).
But then you see the sign that says Welcome Home Daddy in wobbly kindergarten writing and remember that the soldier probably hasn’t been able to use that phone in a month at the very least, and that he shouldn’t have to do a ninja leap over your over-stuffed suitcase to get to his kids.
There doesn’t need to be a camera here.