And I was Worried it was a Stranger

To the white, male, middle-aged business traveler flying from Detroit to State College late Friday evening, the appropriate usage of the term “It’s just me” is governed by two constraints: 1) there is some question about your identity by a second party 2) you and the second party are fairly-well acquainted. Am I the only one who plays by these rules?

I found myself in the Detroit airport late Friday night; headed home after a week of corporate indoctrin . . . oops, I mean training, in Orlando. I was not in my best state of mind for travel, exacerbated by many things, not the least of which were the head cold I picked up from my colleagues and the eight-minute sprint I’d just completed between terminals. (When the flight attendant says “You might make it if you run,” you run. At least I’d had the foresight to change into a pair of sneakers before boarding my flight in Florida.)

Luckily, the flight was delayed while we waited for the crew to arrive. (Not a sentence anyone’s likely to use very often.) The gate area was fairly empty, so I sat down at the end of a double row of chairs where only one other person was sitting. I’m talking a line of 15 chairs, with another 15 backed up to it; a woman reading on one end and me on the opposite end. There were three or four similarly populated rows in the near vicinity.

So, I’m sitting in my self-imposed, semi-quarantine (due to the above-mentioned cold), when my chair shakes and something bumps my shoulder. I employ the standard half turn to see what it is, and see that a gentleman has settled in directly behind me. Interesting seating choice, but that’s not the strange part. Apparently he noticed me turn, and responded with, “It’s just me.” I waited for a moment then shot a quick glance back to see if a) he was talking on the phone or b) it was someone I knew. No, on both counts. Now, I don’t really care that he sat that close to me (hope he enjoys this cold as much as I am) or even that he bumped me a little (it’s an airport, it happens). But “It’s just me!???!?!” I can’t overlook that.