So we’re on the way back from our brief respite, flying out of Wide Stance International Airport (also known as Minneapolis/St. Paul). I am, of course, like a kid in a candy store. I love airports. I love watching people in airports (can’t imagine why?!?!).
Our gate was near the end of a moving sidewalk. The origin of said sidewalk was out of sight, but I can only imagine the origins of this particular cluster. As I watched, an entire family came into view. Three generations, led by Grandma, closely followed by the married couple and grandkids. Actually, I should say they were led by Grandma’s WALKER. That’s right, they put grandma on a moving sidewalk . . . WITH HER WALKER!!
Cue disaster! Cue hilarity! Cuz, bitches, pretty soon that sidewalk ends. And ya gots to get off. Grandma and her walker had NO CHANCE. Apparently, they were an especially close-knit family, since they were giving each other essentially zero personal space. I’m all for family ties, but in this instance it was a bad, bad idea.
As Grandma struggled mightily to put her history of ambulation to use and stay upgright while exiting, the rest of the family plowed into her (guess they never thought to walk backward). Literally they all wound up in a giant pile at the end of the moving sidewalk, Grandma on bottom.
Fortunately, no one was hurt. Except for me. I slightly pulled a muscle turning away so they wouldn’t see me laughing.
And yes, once again, I’m aware that I’m doomed to the fiery pits of hell. We’re on the same flight.