Some people just like to feel pretty

Terminal E, Logan Airport:

The camera sweeps a generic airport restroom, men coming and going and then leaving the restroom.

Cookie is one of those men.

I walk in and see the tall, good looking and very Republican man who was in front of me through the TSA Security Line at the sink as I enter.  He is brushing his teeth.

How odd and unsanitary, I think.

I stand in front of the urinal and thank God I am not a woman who needs to sit (or hover) to take a pee.  I complete my task at hand, figuratively and literally, do a two shake, zip up and approach the sink counter to wash my hands.

The same well attired man in dress slacks and a pressed golf shirt is still at the washroom counter.

He has finished brushing his teeth.

He is now applying mascara at the mirror.

This is an airport first. For me at least.

Now Cookie is six foot.  And I still like "Daddies" even though some young thing  called me "Daddy!" last year.

But this man applying mascara, with great care, floors me. He is fit.  In his late fifties. Good looking in that squeaky clean kinda way.

And he is putting on mascara.  He knows I am watching.  And this means, we are in a relationship for this split second.

Last year when we went to visit the Husband's parents we went to our favorite local joint to eat and we met the sister of a friend to catch up.  In the middle of the meal there was a commotion.  "SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE!" a woman screamed.  One of the patrons was a doctor and rushed over to a man who was having a crisis.  Not a crisis like Norma would have, but a health crisis.  Everyone in the joint was staring at the man and his wife, and we were all uneasy.

The wife looked around and said "Please go on with you meal - you are making him upset by staring at him." What were we to do?  Pretend like it wasn't happening?  But we went back to our meal as best we could until the squad arrived when everyone again paused and watched the drama unfold.

I bring this up because the man applying mascara reminded me of that moment.  I was entranced by the conundrum before me.  Yet, I felt unable to look away.

Finally he broke the moment by closing his mascara container, dropping in his briefcase and then heading out the door.

Part of me wanted to see where he was going (Texas, I bet), but part of me didn't want to rush out the door and cause anymore of a scene than I had done to that moment.  How do you explain to your husband that the Daddy from the TSA line was in the bathroom putting on mascara - and I watched him do it - and not sound accusatory?

I wondered if he would take it off once he was one the plane, you know - it had made him feel pretty, but the fun needed to end before his wife "Jocelyn", which is what I named her in my imagination, drove their Lincoln Navigator from the cell phone lot to pick him up.

Maybe he just wanted to feel pretty.

Or maybe he was an actor rushing to catch a plan for an emergency performance of Othello, or Life with Father.  Or maybe not.

I told my friend Candace about this.  Candace is a reporter for an NBC affiliate and she was like "Did you take a picture of him in the bathroom doing this?"

And I was like, yeah, right.  And have airport security asking me all sorts of questions.  "Really, Mr. Cookie.  You expect us to believe that you were just taking a picture of a man putting on eyeliner before boarding his flight?"  I could happen.

But from there, the rest of the day was all downhill until we brought the dogs home.  And they could have cared less.

Anyway, I'm going to chalk it up to some people just need to feel pretty.  Even if it freaks me out.