Airports are strange places. Full of untold stories. Full of people not sure where to go. Full of chaos and silence at the same time – if you know where to go.
‘I’m going to let my beard grow out’. Lucas grins. I chuckle.
‘What?’ He’s sixty-two years old and his wild, grey hair sticks out on the side of his head. He looks like a mad scientist. I can’t help but think that a long beard would look really funny on him. The waitress bring us our drinks. Three hours until our flight departs.
‘You know. I’m tired of not being taken seriously. I’m almost retired goddamnit. A beard will help me to be taken seriously.’ I can hear annoyance in Lucas’ voice.
‘It’s not that’, I begin. ‘It’s just.. It’s not the beard, Lucas. It’s the hair. And the clothes. And the yellow briefcase.’ He frowns when I mention his beloved briefcase that’s currently sitting on the chair next to him. I almost need sunglasses when I look at it.
‘Then what do I do?’ He seems to genuinely want to know.
I hesitate. ‘You need to.. Stop hiding yourself.’ Two hours and fortynine minutes until our flight. I can’t wait to be back in Detroit. ‘Wearing a mask won’t help.’
Lucas squeezes a piece of lemon in his icetea. ‘I never really thought about that. That I was doing that, I mean. I just want to feel cool.’
Sigh. I know. ‘You shouldn’t feel the need to be cool. You’re Lucas, that makes you cool. A yellow briefcase isn’t gonna change that.’
‘Maybe Sally can help me pick out some new clothes, then.’
‘Yeah, maybe.’ I’m the one grinning now. And Lucas chuckles.
Photo taken by Matthew Smith (via Unsplash.com)