I sometimes forget why people fly. I fly for work. I fly so regularly that I sometimes forget that some people are not going to their next appointment or job site. Some people are flying for reasons bigger than us.
Today I was sitting at my gate, F4, at O’Hare waiting for my flight to Pittsburg. I’m sitting there emailing on my Blackberry and noticed what I would call a non-business traveler in the gate area. He was about my age- mid 30’s- and had a Harley Davidson leather jacket and boots. He looked like a stylish biker with perfectly styled hair and dark sunglasses. I’m not sure why I noticed him. Maybe because he wasn’t like us: the business traveler.
He took the empty seat near me, leaving a comfortable open seat between us.
“Is that the Curve?”
“Huh? Oh yeah. It’s the Curve.”
“Cool. Do you mind if I see it? I am thinking about one…”
“Sure.” I hand over my Blackberry. Something
I normally would never do but I handed it over freely. He asked a few questions but then he just
started to talk.
Almost like the Kleenex commercial he shared how he lives in Bartlett and just finished building a house with his fiancé. He’s going to Pittsburg because his grandfather died. “A bereavement flight” he called it. I never knew anyone who actually called it that.
“My family is there and they all seem happy to see me. I wonder why it takes this to see me.” I knew
he was grieving more than his grandfather’s death.
“Ya know I’ve lived here for two and half years and have only been to downtown
Chicago three times?” I just listened to him.
“The first time was to close on my house.” His voice trailed off as he listed the two
other times.
“I’m sorry to hear about your grandfather.” I really meant
it. I didn’t say it because it was the
right thing to say.
“Thanks.”
“Are you ok?” It seemed like forever between when I asked the question and when
he answered.
“Yeah. Thanks for letting me see your
Curve.”
He turned away. He just sat there with his sunglasses never leaving his face. Then the gate agent announced the flight was going to be delayed due to crew.
“What’s that mean?” he turned back to me.
“We are waiting for enough people to fly the plane. I’m not surprised. Delays are pretty common.”
He reached in his jacket and pulled out his phone.
“Hey Dad”
“It’s me.”
“No, my flight is going to be about an hour late.”
”I’m not sure.”
”I’ll let you know.”
”Thanks Dad.”
“…I love you…” his voice trailed off like it did when he was telling me about
his 3 visits to Chicago.
He got up and walked away. I pulled out my computer and started working. The gate started filling up. I was pretty focused on my work when I felt someone watching me. I look around and see leather jacket guy looking my way.
I politely acknowledged him and put my head back town toward my computer screen. He moved his seat 3 times the hour between the announcement and boarding.
I never did see him after that but I can’t stop thinking about him. Who is he? Why did start opening up like that to me?
Whoever you are, I’m hoping everything turns out OK for you.
Respectfully Yours,
Traveler from Gate F4
I wrote this monologue for a writing class at Second City
(To be read outloud in your favorite white trash accent).
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I just finished waxin’ the ole El Camino. I call her Marlene’s Machine. Ya see- I’m Marlene. Kinda cute, dontcha think? And I hung a new pine scent air freshener from the rear view. They were on sale at the Super America- 3 for 99cents. I just went in to get a Mountain Dew and a scratch off and I saw ‘em at the register. I know what you’re thinkin’ “what’s a foxy lil thing like you doin’ what such a sweet ride?” Eddie, at the car lot, tried to get me to buy his momma’s old Corsica but how in the hell do you expect me to look like hot shit in a Corsica? I suppose it would be nice to have a back seat so I can fit my baby seats in there, but if I’m driving around town lookin’all smokin’ in my acid washed jeans and tube top, the last thing I need is a bunch a kids in the backseat whalin’ about wantin’ to go to the McDonald’s. Do you know how much Aqua Net it takes to get my hair this high? And I ain’t gonna ruin it with my bratty kids tossin’ Fruit Loops at me. Oh I know most mom’s give their kids Cheerios but those taste like rolled up cardboard and lil Eddie, yeah, Eddie from the car lot is his daddy, only he don’t know it, and Crystal, she’s my baby. I named her after Crystal Gale. After I heard her on that 8 track that was left in the El Camino, aka Marlene’s Machine- from the previous owner- I fell in love. Oh not that kinda love. I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with that…it’s just that I don’t swing that way. ‘Cept that one summer when I was playing softball in the women’s league. It was right after I broke up with Eddie for the 6th time. It was nice because all the girls would all pitch in and watch my kids when it was my turn at bat. That’s how I met Lou. I think her real name was Louise but everybody called her Lou. Anywho, she used to fix my car and that was a lot cheaper than takin’ it to Frank’s garage. I see Frank about once a month for my child support for Crystal. He agreed to give me $200 a month and a carton of Virginia Slims and I agreed to stop puttin’ his phone number on the men’s room wall at the truck stop over on 47. Ya know, the one where the George Michael look-a-like hangs out? Yeah, so one time Lou was over at my trailer, fixin’ my car and we were sharin’ a 15 pack of Schlitz…it’s always awkward when it’s an odd number like that. Well, when we got to 15 she offered it to me. Hell, she even opened it for me so I wouldn’t ruin my Lee Press On nails. I got some at the Dollar Store. They had the pre-painted pretty blue ones. Can you believe they only cost me a dollar? I woulda got more but lil Eddie and Crystal wanted some Cheetos and I only had $2 dollars and some change from the ashtray on me, so when I get my check I’m gonna go back and hope they have some more. I might get something nice for Lou, too. I know I already told you I don’t swing that way. I’m just trying to be nice since she’s so nice to me. Plus I’m makin’ her my famous mayonnaise and Jell-O surprise, aka Marlene’s Jell-O Madness. What makes it special is that I serve it little Dixie cups. All the cookin’ shows say the gourmet way to serve desserts is in teenie tiny ceramic cups, but the only dishwasher I got is these two hands and I don’t want to break off my new nails washing all those little tiny tea cups. Well it’s time for me to scoot on outta here. I gotta squeeze the kids into the El Camino for the picnic. It should be a hoot with Eddie, Frank and Lou all there. I just hope a fight don’t break out on who’s gonna push me on the swing. Tootles.
