MIA

Wouldn’t you know I got sat next to the John Deer dealer?! He’s from Mississippi and was very bitter that he was headed to New Orleans next, explaining that "those people" are constantly ripping off tourists and looking for hand-outs “I mean just look at what happened there after the hurricane. Everywhere those people went they’re trying to get rid of them.” He also explained that his hunting trip was actually helpful to the sunflower farmers because the pigeons and doves are a real nuisance.

The Miami airport has been a real culture shock. The late arrival of our plane, the craziness of the passport check, baggage claim, and gate assignment system shortened my wait time from 5 hours to 2, but it has turned me sour toward Americans, both new and old. I would guess that 80% of the staff and passengers in this airport weren’t born in the United States. Between all the people I had to interact with to get to my gate—the immigration guy, customs guy, airport information guy, wrap-your-luggage-in-saranwrap-guy, and five American Airlines agents, the most pleasant was the customs guy (and I’m not trying to say that he was super nice). Looking around at the passengers I have to ask myself “does your hair need to be that big? Do you really need to be the first in line at customs? Do you need to use that tone with your kid? How much time have you spent on that tan and those nails?”. I thought the Miami airport would have been a nice transition, but I just want to see familiar faces. It's kind of nice that toilet paper can actually go in the toilet though.