On our way back from New York City, tired after a very busy and “groovy” trip – praying not to have jet lag - and thinking more about sleeping than talking or smiling, we were spending our last minutes in the “Big Apple” sitting on one of the benches of the beautiful JFK airport.
Almost without understanding what the loudspeaker at the departure lounge was saying, we entered like zombies in the plane through the escalator which took us to a gorgeous afroamerican air hostess who with just one smile kept us awake making me think that NYC would be an even more interesting town with someone like her living there.
We walked through the main hallway desperately looking for our seats, thinking now more about sleeping than about the colored woman -well, I can't remember this properly- and praying not to have our seats near a family with a baby who were to our left... But fate screwed with us for just a few minutes: our seats were just in front of the family! My need for sleeping turned into a bad mood when the baby's little hand -it was a girl – impacted on my bald head. Her parents, kindly, said they were sorry and I, who was terribly missing my son Pancho, reached out my arms towards that beautiful face with an even more beautiful smile and the girl practically flew the whole trip with me.