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Mistletoe at the Airport
It was slightly before Thanksgiving. The trip went reasonably well,
and this guy was ready to go back. The airport, on the other end, had turned
a tacky red and green, and loudspeakers blared annoying elevator renditions
of cherished Christmas carols. Being someone who took Christmas very
seriously, and being slightly tired, he was not in a particularly good mood.
Going to check in his luggage (which, for some reason, had become one
suitcase with entirely new clothes), he saw a hanging mistletoe. Not real
mistletoe, but very cheap plastic with red paint on some of the rounder parts
and green paint on some of the flatter and pointier parts, that could be taken
for mistletoe only in a very Picasso sort of way. With a considerable degree
of irritation and nowhere else to vent it, he said to the attendant,
"Even if I were not married, I would not want to kiss you under such a ghastly
mockery of mistletoe."
"Sir, look more closely at where the mistletoe is."
(pause)
"Ok, I see that it's above the luggage scale, which is the place you'd
have to step forward for a kiss."
"That's not why it's there."
(pause)
"Ok, I give up. Why is it there?"
"It's there so you can kiss your luggage goodbye."
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