When Life Starts Getting Old
London Calling
“Final boarding call to flight nine-eight-five-zero to London Heathrow.”
“Shit shit shit shit!”
I took off through the Dayton airport, running as fast as my twenty-pound backpack would let me. I ran up an escalator, across a moving walkway, even hurdled a small child. I had to catch this flight. I had spent all day at the airport trying to get on a plane to London as a standby. My girlfriend, Dianne, had been texting and calling me frantically wondering where the hell I was. She worked in London and we hadn’t seen each other in eight months because I worked in Ohio.
At first the long distance thing was great. We skyped and emailed and not being together constantly was, frankly, pretty liberating. The major downfall? Getting to London to visit her was a bitch.
My phone began buzzing as I came to a screeching halt at the gate. The woman behind the counter saw my standby ticket and shook her head. No more seats. I could have cried. I answered my phone as I walked away.
“Did you get on a flight?” Dianne asked.
“No,” I sighed, walking over to the departures board. “There’s another in an hour.”
“You may as well not even come, Marley! I can’t take another day off work waiting on you to get here!”
“I thought you took the week off… so we could spend time together?”
Dianne was silent.
“It’s not all about you, Marley. Some people have to work.”
“I… but… I have a job… and I took this time off to fly thousands of miles to see you!”
“You haven’t even left the ground yet! You know why? ‘Cause your stupid ass freelance writing job doesn’t pay enough for you to buy a real ticket to go see your girlfriend.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I’m sick of waiting, so don’t even come. I don’t want to see you again.”
“Fuck you, Dianne.”
“Fuck you, too, Marley. We’re done.”
I hung up my phone. I couldn’t even cry because I was too pissed off. Dianne and I had been having little problems for ages, which was why I liked being so far apart. I didn’t need her anymore. I paced around the gate. I wasn’t going to give up the ticket, so it looked like I was going to take a little vacation to London by myself.
I left for the next gate right away to avoid missing yet another plane. This time I got on. I even had a row to myself. It was eight o’clock at night, which meant I would get to London around nine o’clock in the morning. Once we took off, I pulled all the armrests up, covered myself with a blanket, laid down, and fell asleep.
“Shit shit shit shit!”
I took off through the Dayton airport, running as fast as my twenty-pound backpack would let me. I ran up an escalator, across a moving walkway, even hurdled a small child. I had to catch this flight. I had spent all day at the airport trying to get on a plane to London as a standby. My girlfriend, Dianne, had been texting and calling me frantically wondering where the hell I was. She worked in London and we hadn’t seen each other in eight months because I worked in Ohio.
At first the long distance thing was great. We skyped and emailed and not being together constantly was, frankly, pretty liberating. The major downfall? Getting to London to visit her was a bitch.
My phone began buzzing as I came to a screeching halt at the gate. The woman behind the counter saw my standby ticket and shook her head. No more seats. I could have cried. I answered my phone as I walked away.
“Did you get on a flight?” Dianne asked.
“No,” I sighed, walking over to the departures board. “There’s another in an hour.”
“You may as well not even come, Marley! I can’t take another day off work waiting on you to get here!”
“I thought you took the week off… so we could spend time together?”
Dianne was silent.
“It’s not all about you, Marley. Some people have to work.”
“I… but… I have a job… and I took this time off to fly thousands of miles to see you!”
“You haven’t even left the ground yet! You know why? ‘Cause your stupid ass freelance writing job doesn’t pay enough for you to buy a real ticket to go see your girlfriend.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I’m sick of waiting, so don’t even come. I don’t want to see you again.”
“Fuck you, Dianne.”
“Fuck you, too, Marley. We’re done.”
I hung up my phone. I couldn’t even cry because I was too pissed off. Dianne and I had been having little problems for ages, which was why I liked being so far apart. I didn’t need her anymore. I paced around the gate. I wasn’t going to give up the ticket, so it looked like I was going to take a little vacation to London by myself.
I left for the next gate right away to avoid missing yet another plane. This time I got on. I even had a row to myself. It was eight o’clock at night, which meant I would get to London around nine o’clock in the morning. Once we took off, I pulled all the armrests up, covered myself with a blanket, laid down, and fell asleep.