Airport Chronicles: The Nigerian Pastor, The Wind and My Wig
On my way to “the abroad” I had everything checked on my list to prepare me for the cold. Jacket- Check
Scarf – Check
Getting on the plane from Lagos, I met a Pastor, a much older man whose company I enjoyed very much. It was also convenient that we were coming to New York together. So, we changed our seats to sit together on the plane to NYC
I should have known his own will get as e be when he stylishly said “sweetheart you don’t need to apply all these makeup on your face. You’re already pretty”
He said this while I reapplied my lipgloss in preparation for landing. I laughed and explained to him that I had no makeup on and lip gloss is really not makeup. He nodded and insisted, “you don’t need makeup. That’s all I know”
After getting our luggage at the NY Airport and we stepped out towards the car park, the cold hit me like a brick! Oh my Lord! I thought I was prepared but I really wasn’t. I ran across the road between the arrival terminal and the car park
That was when it happened
The wind gave my wig wings and it flew off my head like a kite. Everything was happening at the same time, I didn’t know if I should leave the wig and run into the car park or stop in the middle of the road, causing traffic while I run to pick up my wig
I decided my wig was more important. Please don’t blame me, the cold had frozen my brain, I wasn’t thinking straight
I turned back, leaving my trolley Ladened luggage in the middle of the road and ran back to retrieve my wig. Car horns were blaring, airport officials were saying “Ma’am…ma’am…” I had no comment for those ones. Eess like you people cannot see what your wind has caused
I picked up my wig, ran back across the road, waved apologetically at everyone and no one in particular, pushed my trolley and quickly entered the car park.
The pastor was on the other side, laughing and shaking his head at me, judging me in his mind. “What is it with you kids and this wig. Look at your hair. You have long hair. What do you need extra for?”
The pastor was beginning to annoy me. After all that trauma, that’s all he could say? I put on my wig, brought out my phone to use as mirror to confirm my wig was well placed and then I bid the pastor farewell
I was going to see my real father, this pastor is not my father, I couldn’t deal with him.