A s I sit in the Delta Sky Club at John F. Kennedy International Airport awaiting my flight to Amsterdam — yes, I am returning to Amsterdam for the third of four times within this month — I thought I would share with you some experiences and photographs as vignettes at the Delta Sky Club in New York.
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I arrive at the counter at the Sky Club to ask an agent to print for me the rest of my boarding passes to Muscat, which is my final destination.
“Where are you traveling to?!?” he asked.
“Muscat”, I replied.
“Where is that?”
“It is in Oman.”
“…and what country is that located in?”
“Oman is a country. Muscat is its capital city.”
“But where is that located?”
“Oman borders the United Arab Emirates.”
Still looking puzzled, he asked: “…so Oman is part of the United Arab Emirates?“
“No — Oman is a country located next to the United Arab Emirates. Dubai is in the United Arab Emirates.”
“…so Muscat is in Dubai?”
Abbott and Costello would have either been rolling their eyes or rolling on the floor in laughter at what has now become a potentially classic routine — but I believe he finally got it.
“Do you have your visa?”
“I do not need to get one before I arrive.”
“Well, let me just check and find out everything you need to know so that you have all of the information.”
He was really trying to be helpful — and he was helpful; but it sure took a long time to convince him that Oman is a country…
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There is a “quiet room” within the Sky Club where I am unfortunately listening to probably one of the worst eaters I have ever heard in my life. He is literally on the opposite side of this quiet room; and yet he slurped and chewed his food so loudly that it was simply disgusting. He could not have chosen anywhere else in the Sky Club to be as loud as he was?!?
I was relieved when he finally left — only to return with crunchy food. I have known some noisy eaters; but how can one person possibly create so much noise by simply eating?!?
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I walked up to the counter when I thought he had had enough time to print out my boarding passes and have everything in order — which he did. He advised me to be careful visiting those countries in the Middle East; as well as let me know of the amenities and food available in the Sky Club — including the bagels, of which I already had two.
“You actually have real New York bagels here,” I replied. “I have not had one in a long time!”
“Yes — and you can cut one open, slice a hard-boiled egg, and put it on the…”
“Whoa, whoa whoa — wait a minute. A real New York bagel needs nothing put on it. It is excellent just the way it is.”
The female agent next to him looked my way and smiled while nodding.
“Am I wrong?” I asked her.
“No, you are absolutely right!”
“It was practically a crime what this Sky Club used to offer what it passed off as bagels. They were disgusting. How can you be in New York and not offer real bagels? It is so great that you finally have them!”
She agreed. Hey — I am originally from Brooklyn. I may not know much; but I know my bagels…
…but I do not believe that the poor guy behind the counter really caught on. He is probably not originally from New York.
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Does this guy have a bottomless pit? When will he finally stop slurping, chomping, crunching and smacking — or at least get out of the “quiet room”? They probably hear him all the way over in New Jersey. If Concorde were still flying, he would probably drown out its noise.
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He is still here and already drove one woman out with his incessant chewing and crunching. Doesn’t he have a flight to catch?!?
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…and finally, a little bit of watching airplanes. Enjoy!
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Excuse me…I am going to have to take my belongings and find someplace else in this Sky Club where I can get away from him…
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…and even though much of the entire Sky Club is empty, he follows me to the new location where I moved and starts eating loudly again.
There is something definitely wrong with this irritating guy…
All photographs ©2015 by Brian Cohen.
