Crazy About You!
Crazy about you
"Flight 432; New York to Oakland is delayed 30 minutes, please stand by for more information." The intercom buzzes.
"Craptacular." I mutter to myself. I start drumming my pen against my knee rhythmically. A man walks up and takes the seat next to me. I shift uncomfortably and continue the drum beat against my knee.
"You a drummer?" he asks.
"Used to be." I say as I put the pen back in my bag.
"I didn't mean you should stop." He says laughing.
"Oh okay." I say laughing. "So are you on the delayed flight to Oakland?"
"Yup, you?"
"Yeah." I say leaning my head back.
"So you said you used to be a drummer."
"Yeah, I was in a band called Paper Trail when I was a teenager." I say not looking up.
"I'm a drummer too. I had a couple of bands as a teenager, Lookouts and Sweet Children." He says shrugging.
"That isn't your natural hair color is it?" I say in a mocking tone.
"Jeez, I can't even remember my natural hair color." He says laughing.
"Covering up greys are we?" I say laughing.
"No, I like to keep my hair color interesting." He says in a snooty voice, "I bet that isn't your natural hair color either, with the streakiness and such."
"Same situation as you, I've already gone blond and red headed this year, but I think I'll stick with brown for a while. More, less my natural color."
"My name is Tre and I have a lovely ass." He says sticking out his hand so that I can shake it.
"My name is Lindsay and I have really nice abs." I say laughing.
"What's your last name?"
"Brooks."
"Lindsay Brooks, such a super model name." he mocks, "my last name is Wright, because I'm always right."
"Sure you are." I say rolling my eyes. "So why are you visiting Oakland?"
"I live there, I came to New York to visit my daughter." I burst out laughing. "What?"
"You have a daughter! In the past five minutes you've been acting like such a teenager, you have a daughter!" I say still laughing.
"Is it that hard to believe that I have offspring?" he asks crossing his eyes.
"Well sort of."
"Her name's Ramona, she's nine." He says thoughtfully.
"Awe that's sweet." I say in a mocking tone. "How come you don't live here then?"
"My work is in California, but I come visit like crazy and she's comes over to California on every school break she gets." He says happily, "But yeah I'd still like to see her more often. Enough about me what are you doing here?"
"I came to visit with some of my old college buddies, who are also my ex-band mates. I live in Oakland too."
"What do you do?"
"I own a restaurant; it's called Paper Trail."
"What like your band?"
"Yeah, to cheap to come with a new name." I say laughing. "So what do you do?"
"I work for Reprise Records." He says shrugging.
"So do all Reprise employees dress like teenagers?"
"No, only a few of us." He says laughing.
"We are now boarding flight 432 to Oakland, California." The intercom buzzes. Tre and I get up and go to the gate where we're sent to different check-in lines.
I make my way through the plane to my seat. I shove my bag into the overhead compartment and sit down at the window seat.
"You're in my seat." Tre's voice bellows out from above me.
"Very funny." I say rolling my eyes.
"No I'm serious." He says putting his ticket under my nose.
"Whoops, my mistake." I say moving to the empty seat next to me.
"Well now you're blocking my way to my seat." He pesters. I roll my eyes and stand in the isle.
"Hold on dear, I have to put my bag away." He says as he slowly puts his bag in the overhead compartment.
"Can you move any slower." I whine.
"Probably, I just chose not to." he says finally closing the overhead compartment and sitting down.
"It's about time." I say sitting next to him. "I just realized, this is a lot like the movie Red Eye."
"That was a good movie." He says thinking to himself, "My business is you."
"What! You're holding my father hostage!" I say laughing.
"What you have a father?" he says pretending to be confused.
"I'm not sure." I say staring off into space. "I remember coming down from a space ship, many years ago." Tre bursts out laughing.
"Me too. Was it mother-ship 22 from nebula six?" he asks laughing.
"No actually it was mother ship 25." I say holding my sides in laughter.
"Oh you probably came a couple of years after me." he says still laughing. "Hey look we already took off, I didn't even notice."
"So we have." I say as I look over Tre, out the window and see the airport getting smaller and smaller.
"So what about you do you have any kids?" he asks randomly.
"Jeez you're random." I say laughing, "No kids."
"Ever married?"
"Engaged once, but we called it off." I say shrugging.
"Awe what happened?" he asks in a fake sympathetic voice.
"I don't know we just lost interest in each other." I say shrugging, "And what about you?"
"Married twice divorced twice." He says shrugging.
"Oh that's it then." I say sarcastically.
"Yup." He says casually. "Plus oodles of girlfriends and boyfriends along the way."
"I've had oodles of boyfriends along the way, but none at the moment." I say shrugging, "Wait did you say boyfriends?"
"Maybe." He says slyly, "Does it turn you on?"
"Psht, I couldn't care less." I say casually.
"How old are you?" he asks evilly.
"Didn't your mother ever teach you asking ladies how old they are is rude?"
"You haven't been acting very lady-like." He says maliciously. "I'll tell you how old I am. I'm thirty-three."
"Going on fifteen?" I ask jokingly, "I'm twenty-nine."
"So if I'm turning fifteen that means you're turning eleven." He says pretending to count on his fingers.
"Very good Tre, now what's five times six." I ask in a mocking tone.
"Thirty." He says wisely. "I figured someone who owns a restaurant should at least know her five time tables."
"Umm, I have an accountant for a reason." I say laughing. Our conversation turns silent so I pop the headphones for my mp3 player into my ears.
"Watcha listening to?" Tre pesters.
"Sex Pistols." I say passing him one of the ear pieces.
"Oh God Save the Queen." He says excitedly as the song ends, "Teenage Lobotomy? Someone's a 70's punk fan."
"Guilty as charged." I say laughing. "What do you listen to?"
"Rap."
"Not the damn hip hop shit." I say rolling my eyes.
"No, the good stuff, west coast rap. It's the shizit." He says happily.
"If you say so." I say still preferring my precious 70's punk.
We continue chatting until the plane lands and we go our separate ways.
"See you around Tre." I say waving as I walk toward the taxis.
"See you around Lindsay darling." He calls out across the airport.
"Craptacular." I mutter to myself. I start drumming my pen against my knee rhythmically. A man walks up and takes the seat next to me. I shift uncomfortably and continue the drum beat against my knee.
"You a drummer?" he asks.
"Used to be." I say as I put the pen back in my bag.
"I didn't mean you should stop." He says laughing.
"Oh okay." I say laughing. "So are you on the delayed flight to Oakland?"
"Yup, you?"
"Yeah." I say leaning my head back.
"So you said you used to be a drummer."
"Yeah, I was in a band called Paper Trail when I was a teenager." I say not looking up.
"I'm a drummer too. I had a couple of bands as a teenager, Lookouts and Sweet Children." He says shrugging.
"That isn't your natural hair color is it?" I say in a mocking tone.
"Jeez, I can't even remember my natural hair color." He says laughing.
"Covering up greys are we?" I say laughing.
"No, I like to keep my hair color interesting." He says in a snooty voice, "I bet that isn't your natural hair color either, with the streakiness and such."
"Same situation as you, I've already gone blond and red headed this year, but I think I'll stick with brown for a while. More, less my natural color."
"My name is Tre and I have a lovely ass." He says sticking out his hand so that I can shake it.
"My name is Lindsay and I have really nice abs." I say laughing.
"What's your last name?"
"Brooks."
"Lindsay Brooks, such a super model name." he mocks, "my last name is Wright, because I'm always right."
"Sure you are." I say rolling my eyes. "So why are you visiting Oakland?"
"I live there, I came to New York to visit my daughter." I burst out laughing. "What?"
"You have a daughter! In the past five minutes you've been acting like such a teenager, you have a daughter!" I say still laughing.
"Is it that hard to believe that I have offspring?" he asks crossing his eyes.
"Well sort of."
"Her name's Ramona, she's nine." He says thoughtfully.
"Awe that's sweet." I say in a mocking tone. "How come you don't live here then?"
"My work is in California, but I come visit like crazy and she's comes over to California on every school break she gets." He says happily, "But yeah I'd still like to see her more often. Enough about me what are you doing here?"
"I came to visit with some of my old college buddies, who are also my ex-band mates. I live in Oakland too."
"What do you do?"
"I own a restaurant; it's called Paper Trail."
"What like your band?"
"Yeah, to cheap to come with a new name." I say laughing. "So what do you do?"
"I work for Reprise Records." He says shrugging.
"So do all Reprise employees dress like teenagers?"
"No, only a few of us." He says laughing.
"We are now boarding flight 432 to Oakland, California." The intercom buzzes. Tre and I get up and go to the gate where we're sent to different check-in lines.
I make my way through the plane to my seat. I shove my bag into the overhead compartment and sit down at the window seat.
"You're in my seat." Tre's voice bellows out from above me.
"Very funny." I say rolling my eyes.
"No I'm serious." He says putting his ticket under my nose.
"Whoops, my mistake." I say moving to the empty seat next to me.
"Well now you're blocking my way to my seat." He pesters. I roll my eyes and stand in the isle.
"Hold on dear, I have to put my bag away." He says as he slowly puts his bag in the overhead compartment.
"Can you move any slower." I whine.
"Probably, I just chose not to." he says finally closing the overhead compartment and sitting down.
"It's about time." I say sitting next to him. "I just realized, this is a lot like the movie Red Eye."
"That was a good movie." He says thinking to himself, "My business is you."
"What! You're holding my father hostage!" I say laughing.
"What you have a father?" he says pretending to be confused.
"I'm not sure." I say staring off into space. "I remember coming down from a space ship, many years ago." Tre bursts out laughing.
"Me too. Was it mother-ship 22 from nebula six?" he asks laughing.
"No actually it was mother ship 25." I say holding my sides in laughter.
"Oh you probably came a couple of years after me." he says still laughing. "Hey look we already took off, I didn't even notice."
"So we have." I say as I look over Tre, out the window and see the airport getting smaller and smaller.
"So what about you do you have any kids?" he asks randomly.
"Jeez you're random." I say laughing, "No kids."
"Ever married?"
"Engaged once, but we called it off." I say shrugging.
"Awe what happened?" he asks in a fake sympathetic voice.
"I don't know we just lost interest in each other." I say shrugging, "And what about you?"
"Married twice divorced twice." He says shrugging.
"Oh that's it then." I say sarcastically.
"Yup." He says casually. "Plus oodles of girlfriends and boyfriends along the way."
"I've had oodles of boyfriends along the way, but none at the moment." I say shrugging, "Wait did you say boyfriends?"
"Maybe." He says slyly, "Does it turn you on?"
"Psht, I couldn't care less." I say casually.
"How old are you?" he asks evilly.
"Didn't your mother ever teach you asking ladies how old they are is rude?"
"You haven't been acting very lady-like." He says maliciously. "I'll tell you how old I am. I'm thirty-three."
"Going on fifteen?" I ask jokingly, "I'm twenty-nine."
"So if I'm turning fifteen that means you're turning eleven." He says pretending to count on his fingers.
"Very good Tre, now what's five times six." I ask in a mocking tone.
"Thirty." He says wisely. "I figured someone who owns a restaurant should at least know her five time tables."
"Umm, I have an accountant for a reason." I say laughing. Our conversation turns silent so I pop the headphones for my mp3 player into my ears.
"Watcha listening to?" Tre pesters.
"Sex Pistols." I say passing him one of the ear pieces.
"Oh God Save the Queen." He says excitedly as the song ends, "Teenage Lobotomy? Someone's a 70's punk fan."
"Guilty as charged." I say laughing. "What do you listen to?"
"Rap."
"Not the damn hip hop shit." I say rolling my eyes.
"No, the good stuff, west coast rap. It's the shizit." He says happily.
"If you say so." I say still preferring my precious 70's punk.
We continue chatting until the plane lands and we go our separate ways.
"See you around Tre." I say waving as I walk toward the taxis.
"See you around Lindsay darling." He calls out across the airport.