From the Southeast to the Southwest

“Can I have some water to wash my carrot?” he asked me. I was pouring a glass of Coke on the back galley’s countertop and turned to find him with an irregular looking carrot in his hands. I handed him several napkins and a cup filled with drinking water, and then he washed his carrot like it was the most normal thing to do, like it was the most loved snack to eat on an airplane. “I’ve never had anyone ask me that before,” I said. “That’s a good one, man. I’m going to have to write that one down.”