“Airfield?”…. does that mean main airport, or am I going to be driving the beamer onto the tarmac like a good idea gone horribly wrong when mom takes a left turn from the airport parking lot. ‘eh what the hell, I suppose I’ll figure out soon enough if I’m in the wrong spot considering a plane will be landing on top of my car.’
The echo of the high pitched sound coming from my car to alert me and the next 5 levels of the parking ramp, sounds different today…maybe its the god awful humidity in the air, or maybe its because there is some anticipation in me and every little thing has me distracted to keep from skipping through the parking lot like I’m playing a school yard game of hop scotch…
I saunter towards door 5, he said united right…my mind continues to play logical tricks on me; you know when you are so excited you can barely sleep, eat, or function to a full form of a human capacity until the object of your anticipation is sought after like girl scout cookies at a markdown sale, that’s how I felt. I stroll in through door five, and when I say that I mean it had one of those merry go round doors that Buddy The Elf runs around in until he gets sick, ya that was me…but I stopped after three because the 5 year old and her mother shot me judging stares when they couldn’t jump in at that fast of a pace…I can’t help that I practice everywhere I go.
Looking left I see baggage carousels, to my right is a ticketing counter – the difference about this airport was that you could walk freely all the way up to the gates where they take your ticket and you are about to be seated…they must not have gotten the 9/11 memo that every other god damned airport under the sun received stating: no smiling, no shoestrings, no happiness, no puppies, no hoodies, and definitely no laughter. Straight laced, straight faced ready to clothesline someone at the drop of a hat has been my experience with airport personel and especially TSA. Those individuals don’t work here…quite frankly its refreshing that it seems as though they are all hired from a temp agency, with mild mannered demeanor and pleasant smiles on their faces.
Not seeing any tv screens or hearing announcements when flights get in, I suppose I’ll just stand here by this sturdy brick wall and wait…and wait some more….stare at my feet, the cute lady with the baby, the small chip in my nailpolish and then wonder if I’d shut the lights off on my car…no time for thoughts Meg, we have some serious damage to do this weekend – and your partner in crime should be arriving any minute…any minute now…ok any chunk of 3 minutes on the minute now…I finally look back down to stare at how awfully long my second toe is…like I could scratch your back with it…
I look up and there is that beautiful sight I know to be one of my very best friends, the sight that makes me smile like a 4 year old who just learned the physical definition of potty training. We both kind of stammer over each others names, he didn’t expect me to be inside and I’d been waiting so long [9 minutes to be exact] that I’d started to lose hope, maybe he changed his mind last minute and the flight wasn’t worth it after all….psych.
Walking towards the car we couldn’t stop smiling, talking about the wonderful weekend we were about to unfold like a cardboard box, the amount of red paint we would need, and the amount of PBR’s we could responsibly afford without having to take out a second mortgage [too late]. Off to dinner, drinks, a kick ass firework show, and out to dance the night away…in 110% humidity [let me tell you I was a vision]. All the while none of us complained, see we enjoy the sheer existance of each others company so much that it’s borderline Christmas everytime we reconveine; this was an accident, turned friendship, turned penpals, turned best friends…the organic experience of allowing this relationship to evolve to wherever it wants to go has been a true blessing and joy in my life.
To have someone I can count on to 9 times out of 10 (hundred) pick up the phone and be there when I am in need is a beautiful thing, someone that notices things about me that I didn’t even notice about myself, a person to sing your praises and always have your back – even in the worst of dance offs.
I can’t tell you how much I’ve appreciated these past few months getting to know you, getting to be around you, and being able to tell people about the wonderful friend I have that has helped make my weird ass dreams become reality…I feel like a kid again when I’m with you and all I want to do is double dutch and sidewalk chalk the night away. Thanks for being more than I could have ever hoped for, and less than I ever over assumed. You my dear friend are something spectacular, they just don’t quite make them like you anymore – I’m glad I have you in my life.
‘Your star is so bright I can see your core, and you light up my life so I can see more…’
Thank You Browntown
Sween Child Of Mine, Meg.