Late December 2022
Lihue Airport on the island of Kauai, Hawaii, waiting area:
We prepared to return home to Modesto after spending over two weeks visiting our daughter in the town of Kapaa, located on the Hawaiian island of Kauai. We sat in the waiting area, ready to board our plane.
Two men, a gay couple, stared at me as if they recognized me from somewhere. They didn’t blink very much and their staring struck me as somewhat unnerving. I wondered if they thought I assaulted them at some point in the past or had some other sort of antagonistic encounter with the two of them. Their stare felt accusatory as if my presence seated across from them generated a miniature epidemic of paranoia and hostility.
I walked over to them. “Say yo, fellas, do I know you both from somewhere? You both keep looking at me and it’s kinda uncomfortable.”
The Chinese one, wearing a white t-shirt and beige jeans, bristled slightly and turned to his partner, an exceedingly thin Caucasian man wearing khaki slacks, a golf shirt, and a cardigan sweater. “See, Garrett, I told you it wasn’t him! This guy is obviously not him. He speaks English and is clearly African American. The guy who robbed us was a white man with a beard, and he had an accent, like maybe Russian or something.”
Then turning to me, Francis Lee told me, “I’m sorry. We both got our eyes worked on in Kauai, and our vision isn’t completely back to normal. Things are still slightly fuzzy and we probably look as though we’re staring wide-eyed at everything. On top of that, we lost our sunglasses, and the people in the airport store told me they were out of stock. Stupid supply-chain problems, you know. The doctor told us we needed to wait a couple of days before traveling anywhere but one of the designers at our company got her ridiculously long hair caught in a clothes dryer and died by strangulation. We need to get back to the Bay Area right away. I apologize sincerely. What happened to us was that we got robbed a few weeks ago, and from a distance, you reminded us of the asshole who did it. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all good,” I said, “but you both need to watch it with the judgmental stares. Many people might think you’re trying to pick a fight with them. Take it easy, and have a nice flight.”
On my way back to my seat, I overheard Garrett Fisher say to Francis, “Oh girl, did you see that? He’s a real button! Yummy!”
“Shut up Garrett!” Francis hissed, “Damn! People can hear you! This happens every time you use those earphones; they cause you to talk too loudly!”
I pretended I didn’t hear them and sat down next to my wife. “Whatever it is, I guess I still gots it?” I wondered to myself.