Karma Police

I should have helped the Italians. That's all I could think after two canceled flights, two horrible delays, near arrest, a security breach, a twisted ankle (not mine), a few public rants consisting entirely of cuss words, near suffocation in a throng of smelly, sweaty nerds at a comic book convention, missed industry parties, alienation by people I thought were cool, and sunburns in unholy places. And a few minor struggles with matched luggage. If I'd only helped the Italians, I wouldn't be angry, spurned, burned and most of all, disappointed. To read more about our terrible, horrible, no good, very bad trip to the San Diego Comic Con, I urge you to read RM's account of the tale. He has a sense of humor about it, while all I an manage is sardonic with a twang of bitter.

Suffice it to say that there was no need to rush to the gate at JFK last Wednesday. I should have stopped to help the spoiled-looking, casual designer label-wearing Italians whose lack of English-speaking skills and panicked demeanor had caused a glaucoma-ish glaze to settle over the eyes of the little old ladies working the counters at American Airlines ticketing.

RM said karma would punish me because I let them throw their hands up in despair, screaming, "non capito, non ti capito!" He said karma would bite me in the ass because I didn't use my rusty Italian to tell them that "la donna qui nell' uniforme ufficiale ti aiutera colle valige, e le porte sono all'altro lato della barriera di sicurezza la."

Well there, I've said it now...but at the time all that came to my mind was, "le scarrafaggie cogli ali" which roughly translated, means, "the cockroaches with wings." Maybe that would have helped? I don't know. All I can say is that I'm sorry, and I hope they ended up where they wanted to go!