Airport Tribal Warfare!

what your outfit at Gate B6 says about you.

I’ve spent a lot of time at the airport this year.

Just that sentence alone is probably a bit harrowing for most people, as the air travel experience has seemingly dropped off a cliff the past few years.

Totally understandable, but I oddly enjoy it. I think the plane fixation helps.

While the last post focused on how we can apply the principles of the brutality of clay court 5-setters to our insane cultural landscape, I figured it’s time for something a bit more lighthearted.

Let’s dip into some observances and realizations from Terminal 5.

Fashion Flags and Tribal Colors

“You can observe a lot just by watching”- Yogi Berra

Getting to the gate early is a recently discovered “life hack” of sorts that I really enjoy.

You get the humiliation ritual of TSA done quickly (now double the hassle with the “Real ID” implementation-Kristi you’re cute but this sucks 🙄) and can just post up at the gate early, stress-free.

This makes for prime people watching hours. Watching planes land, seeing the passengers from different locales exit the airplane while you clock what they’re wearing, how they interact, and how they carry themselves.

The proliferation of social media and “merch” coupled with our political climate means that we now collectively wear cultural uniforms.

There’s a bright side to this, of course.

A person wearing a sweatshirt adorned with a college logo or a team’s patch on their backpack makes for easy inroads to casual conversation, and you can learn a whole lot from talking to strangers (also a really good habit for a writer).

On the flip side, it’s never been easier to understand (with >95% certainty) where people stand on issues and what they believe.

Is it proper to blanket judge books by their cover?

No, you need nuance.

Can you infer a lot about a person using visual context clues?

Of course.

This is humorous to watch in action.

You’ve got the mid-60’s coastal lady with her Books> People tote bag keeping her distance from Captain Biceps in the one-size-too-small 1776 PATRIOT tee on the boarding line.

A man wearing a Yankees hoodie that’s probably older than I am tries to make it not so obvious as he leers at the Alo set+AirPod Max combo girls (it’s glaringly obvious).

A stereotypical Tik Tok “Airport Dad” is posted up next to a girl who hates the patriarchy.

It’s black coffee vs. matcha lattes.

Loud cell phone talkers vs. nervous people who *still* wear masks.

One-arming your carry on into the overhead vs. can you help me with this?

It’s comedic and ironic, and in its own way tragically beautiful.

How funny is it that in a time where we’re the most insular and isolated we’ve ever been, we wear our hearts on our sleeves more than ever before?

The Rise of the Cozy-maxxer

Making peace with the types of people you don’t understand is a necessary part of maturing. It’s also good for your sanity.

Try as we may, it is hard to try to understand those that take phone calls on speaker in public, or don’t put their carts away at the supermarket.

That’s me with the “cozy-maxxers”.

Look, comfort is awesome. I rock athleisure in my airport fits.

I think the trend on the commercial real estate side of Twitter/X of wearing suits on a plane is ridiculous.

That being said, the cozy folk usually take it to the nth degree.

These are the same people in sweats at a hockey game or in a hat at a nice restaurant.

As someone with a track record for overdressing the occasion, this always irked me.

However, ever since I’ve been on my shuttles up and down the coast, my tune has shifted to that of admiration for the cozy-maxxers on the airways.

Maybe it’s the male brain’s tendency to respect competency, maybe the rebel inside of me just admires the sheer audacity.

I board the plane with my phone and a small Lululemon bag with Zyn and moisturizer in it, and pray that my phone holds its charge.

Also a serial flight rawdogger. I just can’t relate.

Whatever it may be, these people come to the airport ready- optics and aesthetics be damned.

It’s elite dedication to maximal human comfort.

Just peep their Loadout:

Primary: iPad Pro+, fully equipped with every streaming service known to man. U-shaped fuzzy neck pillow attachment for precision viewing and sleeping.

Secondary: The emotional support water bottle (usually adorned with a Pokémon and/or ironic slogan sticker)

Tactical: Gigantic noise cancelling headphones.

Lethal: Big snack bags from home snuck through TSA.

Perks: Battery Strategist (every device has a backup charger) and Fast Asleep (somehow these types are able to snooze and wake themselves up via sixth sense for the snack cart)

It’s like the sedentary special forces.

Sure, the baggy Minnie Mouse sweatshirt+ Zebra stripe U-neck pillow combo won’t be catching Anna Wintour’s eye anytime soon, but they’re happy as a clam over in 15C while I’m dehydrated and delusional (and 5 Zyns deep) in 19A.

Who’s really winning?

Orange Cards and a Tale from the Aisles

While it certainly is fun to observe and analyze people in the current state of affairs, it’s always going to have some crazy behavior on the back end.

You can imagine my dismay when I was seated next to an older gentleman that was berating the JetBlue staff at the gate desk when our plane was delayed from arriving, pressing back our boarding time.

His same unruly behavior carried into the cabin, when the Air Marshal came over and dished out something I had never seen before: an orange card.

That’s right, much like getting a yellow card out on the pitch, you can get a warning for bad conduct on an airplane.

He didn’t really seem to care.

As an innocent bystander, the ruling seemed fair- it was more an unneeded tackle on the touchline than a ruthless spikes-up two footer.

He certainly was a disturbance, but he didn’t enter into “that MF over there isn’t real” territory or the infamous 2020 Burger King guy levels of disruption, which would warrant an ejection.

The orange card was perfect and the whole thing was very amusing.

On that note, let’s end with a story of the opposite flavor.

A college student (let’s call her Ashley) was seated next to me on a February flight back to NY this year.

We had a friendly conversation, and she spoke about how she was headed to JFK to catch an international flight to Europe for her study abroad program.

What Ashley had in creativity and pleasantry, she lacked in logistical expertise.

We landed at JFK, and were told while grabbing our things that we’d have to stay in the cabin for 10 extra minutes until we could get off of the plane.

This was not good for Ashley, who left herself a whopping hour between landing and her international flight’s boarding time.

Even worse, we were about 20 rows back.

Ashley explained her fiasco as the tears of panic started to well up.

I did what I had to do.

“Do you care if I touch you?” I asked, and she said no.

I grabbed the sleeve of her hoodie, put my right shoulder down, and barreled through the bros, Pilates girls, grandmas, the 21st Disney+ Cozy Airborne Regiment, and whoever else was in my way.

We got to the front and I pleaded her case and she was allowed right off the plane to scurry for her gate.

The assumption my friends had when I told this story is probably the one you have right now- Dude, she must’ve been a smokeshow.

Not at all.

I realize that reads to be unkind, but it isn’t meant to be.

In fact, Ashley’s appearance was so counter-cultural (purple hair, baggy clothes, septum piercing) that I’d like to think she would be proud that she’s viewed as somebody that runs against conventional societally “accepted” standards of attractiveness.

Now, I told this story for a reason.

It would be naive to think that other people aren’t playing the same game in their heads when analyzing people at the gate- or any place of mass congregation for that matter.

Logic would tell you that it was probably amusing to those traversing the aisles of our A320 to see a central casting alt-girl seated next to a bro with an open Lululemon hoodie and chains (I often wonder how much passerby dislike me).

If there was a Venn Diagram of the beliefs, policies, and viewpoints Ashley and I have, there would probably only be a Spotify playlist in the middle portion (she definitely listens to Clairo, too).

Still- it didn’t matter to me, didn’t matter to her, and obviously if you’re reading this it probably doesn’t matter to you, either.

It’s such an interesting time where our “tribal leanings” are practically written on our foreheads, but our increasingly digital lives are lived in echochambers where the proverbial other side is made out to be mythic boogeymen instead of human beings just like ourselves.

This causes us to lose sight of the bigger picture.

Appearances, beliefs, and attire aside, there remains a fact of life that isn’t changing anytime soon: sometimes we need each other.

P.S.- If I had been comatose off half a bag of nacho cheese Doritos in my puffy neck pillow with White Lotus streaming on my lap, that story would’ve never happened.

^ Can’t help myself.

Chat soon.

-John Abbate

10.6.2025