Blizzard of 09- An AB Short Story. Part 2

I'm never going to get out of here.  

I check my phone and see that there was an email from him.  A hotel conformation for the Airport Marriott.  It was for the next night, and at that point I was very thankful that he's resourceful and smart.  And needless to say cares enough about me to hook that up for me.  I call him.

"Baby! Thank you so much for the hotel room.  I really might need it tomorrow." 

"Of course, babe.  I just want you to be comfortable and safe." He replies.

We're both watching the Dallas game, so I let him go pretty quickly.  Even though my hatred of the airport, snow, and loneliness was growing by the micro-second, my understanding of his love for the Dallas Cowboys superseded.

9:something pm and I'm now on page 271 of my 1073 page book.  I had bought the book a week back.  And even though I love to read, I found that a book with that many pages would either:

A) Prove to be a challenge for my busy life

OR

B) Be a breeze to get through with all the airplane/airport time I have.

And when I thought of option B at the checkout counter at Costco when I purchased the hardback, I never meant this much airplane/airport time.  Believe me.  Now I'm thinking back wishing I would've never jinxed myself.  However, the book is the new Steven King book called Under the Dome.  I found this to be very ironic, considering.  Only those people were trapped in their own hometown.  I am "trapped" no where near home.

Comfortable and Safe, huh?  I thought as I sat in what was now "my" booth in the airport restaurant.  I had all my stuff sprawled out everywhere.  Laptop out on the table, shoes off and underneath the table, and I'll be damned if that big heavy bag wasn't good for something.  I had it nestled between myself and the wall.  I used it to lean on.  I was pretty comfortable.  And as far as safety was concerned I guess I was doing alright in that department, too.   While talking to my waitress in passing, she disclaimed that she would NOT be staying any later than she had to because she HAD to get home.  

"I just had a baby, and I have to get home to him" rushes out of her mouth.

"Well wouldn't you rather be safe than sorry?  I don't know if you can drive in this" I reply.

"I'm going.. I don't care.  I'm gonna dig my car out and go"

Part of me thought- what an idiot.  Her baby needs her to be safe.  What if she doesn't make it?

The other part thought- Yeah, go on girl.  I'd probably do the same thing if I had a newborn baby.

And for a little while those two thoughts bickered until they were both too tired to draw a conclusion.  She left, and I said a prayer for her.

Still reading my book, still periodically checking out the game.  The wind, I'm convinced at this point, was kicking the shit out of the snow.  And I still couldn't really see out of the windows.  I decided to put down the book for a while and do some people watching.  I wondered where these people were going.  I wondered why they were traveling at all.  There weren't that many people, though, and this surprised me at first.  But then I realized there were people unlike my departed waitress.  People who wouldn't take a chance.  Even if it did mean missing a flight to see a loved one they maybe hadn't seen in months, maybe years.  

I always kind of dread that question, anyways.  But now I'm stuck here with all these people that I'm probably going to see until mother nature takes a fuckin' valium and calms down.  But if someone asked, which they didn't, I'd revert back to the default answer:  I'm just visiting some friends.   It's not that I'm ashamed of what I do, or what I travel for.  It's more of a safety issue.  In the rare case of someone already knowing what I'm doing or who I am, that's fine.   I'm just not a "put it out in the open" kind of girl.  But if someone doesn't know, and I go spoutin' off, and they're the "wrong" someone, they could get the wrong idea and that plays out poorly.  

A couple of hours pass by.  The game has been over for some time.  I read, people watch, jot down ideas for some scripts, revise my newest script, read, take a sip of my coffee and read some more.

My eyelids were almost to the point of clamping themselves shut.  I was really tired.... but wasn't all too thrilled about the idea of sleeping on the floor.  I finally forced myself out of "my" booth, gathered my things into the heavy ass bag, and began my trek to the terminal that my 6pm flight was supposed to leave from.  On my way there, I saw the most peculiar thing.  There were people sleeping on the ground covered in aluminum blankets.  I would later find out that they're to keep the heat from your body in.  

Thank god I brought my own pillow and blanket.  There's no way those are cozy.  I thought.

So I found me a spot, laid down my pillow on top of my heavy ass bag which has now come in handy more than once, and covered up with my very own blanket.  Head down on the pillow/bag combination, I say goodnight to my lover on the other side of the phone.  It's 2am.

5am I wake up in the same position I fell asleep in.  But it's really no wonder.  My back hurt so bad from that darned floor.  I had to peel myself up, literally.  I decide that there's no reason I should be sleeping on the floor when there are open benches everywhere.  Why I didn't spare myself and think of this three hours earlier? I don't know.  Nonetheless, I got up, peed, and pulled up a bench. 

At some point in those three hours of me sleeping, they turned the heat off and the radio up.  It was cold, loud and bright.  I look to my left out the window of the terminal.  Mother Nature finally took that damn chill pill.  I fell back asleep on those chairs knowing there would be hope for tomorrow.  

Tomorrow is a different story......