A camel in a tin can

One of the reasons I love traveling is that I usually come back with a suitcase full of stories that I hear and observe. This mini-hegira back to Philly for my brother’s graduation was no exception with its treasure trove of anecdotes. On my flight from Orange County Airport to Phoenix in a small tin can with wings (A.K.A. a Canada Air regional jet) I was packed-in with my fellow travelers: a mainly large (vertically and horizontally), grumpy group of businessmen sporting Swiss watches that could probably launch satellites and pay off at least ½ of my student loans. As we all sat waiting for the final passengers to get on board this large teddy bear of a man suddenly appears at the front of the plane and comes barreling down the aisle wearing a traditional Gulf Arab tunic – a disdashah- and head covering. I could feel the tension rise about 50 degrees from the men sitting around me as he began to wedge himself into his seat. I then noticed that the teddy bear looked more like a German farmer back from Oktoberfest and that his outfit was made from cheap and gaudy polyester (the head covering looked like something King Tut or Michael Jackson would have proudly worn and no self-respecting Gulf Arab would be caught dead in). The outfit, not to mention the teddy bear, looked like it had never seen a grain of sand or a camel (well, maybe a carton of Camel cigarettes). After wedging himself next to the guy across from me, teddy bear proceeds to tell all of us that he lost a bet to his fellow fraternity members (an adult fraternity similar to the ones back in the 50s and 60s that wore fur hats and drank copiously) and that he had to do a roundtrip to Las Vegas dressed as “Sahib Mike Smith.” He then proceeded to hand out his “camel trader” business cards. I felt like I had just crashed a Walmart toga party meets 1001 Arabian Nights disco night. Oh, I forgot to mention that he was carrying a small stuffed camel and that he kept going on about the positive properties of his outfit when it came to ventilation of the male genitalia (I imagine that this is an important male issue when you live in a hot desert). When I finally got to the Phoenix Airport I proceeded directly to the bar and ordered a glass of wine to erase the images of polyester, stuffed camels and ventilation properties for other stuffed items in the desert.