Guys get ready, a weary girl is about to board the plane. She is dressed in a navy hoodie and a fake smile. She just battled an anxiety attack and is still a little apprehensive to be around a lot of strangers and having to follow orders from the crew. When she checked in her luggage I gave her a seat with more leg space, hope it helped. She had to rush to the gate, she really wasn’t having her day. The security guys checked her bag, just because the scan revealed her set of keys. Nothing to worry about, she is harmless. She wanted to snap at all the uniformed people but they were just doing their jobs. If they only knew the effort it had taken her to even get there, missing her flight really wasn’t an option. People with physical limitations can call in advance for airport assistance, but what about people like her? If only I could have accompanied her for a while, without saying much, I would have carried her bag.
You see, the day before her flight her mp3-player died. Listening to music on her phone wasn’t an option because its battery is too weak. Her laptop nowadays only works while it’s plugged in. A minor technology crisis you could say. She had prepared her luggage carefully but found herself confused and even considering staying home, all which caused last-minute disarray.
If you looked carefully you could tell from the way she clutched her neck pillow for comfort while waiting for the tram. The pillow looks cheerful, dark blue with yellow and orange lemons on it. That was the only cheerful thing about her, someone could have easily been fooled. If you really looked closely you could tell she was focusing on her breath and staring at the pavement in an attempt to diffuse the panic attack welling up.
She dragged her trolley to the nearest seat facing a couple and their daughters. The girls weren’t particularly cute, they looked rather bland. Both with thin white hair, pinned to the side behind their ears. The man looked at her a couple of times the way men often do. The lady, who was sitting opposite from her also glanced her way but seemed to feel uncomfortable with the sadness in the girl’s eyes. The little girl on mom’s side also looked her way curiously a couple of times the way kids do. But there was no response, no encouragement. The youngest girl who was sitting with dad, repeated the voice announcing the stops: ‘hold on during the ride’ or something like that. Next she started crying when her dad tried to explain that she didn’t need a tram ticket because she wasn’t four yet.
The tram was filled with Sunday-folk. Chatting away about the weather and such. Some mouths revealed stained and crooked teeth. With each passenger boarding and getting of, you’d hear the beeping sound of the check-in or out. Beep, beep, beep. Followed by the scratching of wheels against the tracks as the tram made a turn.
She kept a straight face. This is why she needed her music.
She fastened the neck pillow onto her backpack, seemed to be self-conscious about it, after all it could have been mistaken for a stuffed animal.
When she arrived at the station she had some time to kill so she went into a shop in the hopes of finding a cable that could charge her mp3-player, despite knowing the cable wasn’t the issue. The shop’s alarm went off as she entered but the lady at the counter didn’t bother to look through her luggage. Later she discovered that it must have been her bikini bottom with the magnetic strip still inside the label.
The shop didn’t have the cable which she could have known as it’s the old kind that no-one uses anymore. Her mp3-player is an ancient one so it’s demise, however unfortunate, wasn’t a surprise. However, not only did she lose the music, her voice recordings were gone as well and some of them weren’t transferred to her computer yet.
On the train she was texting with a friend and when her friend encouraged her to just let her emotions out, she cried.
Now I hope the extra leg space near the emergency exit made her happy but she seemed irritated when the flight attendant pointed out that her luggage could not be on the floor. She looked at her without expression and merely followed orders, cramming it into the last available space in the overhead bin. She sat back down and stuffed a toiletry bag into the pocket seat in front of her. This was also not allowed, oh how she struggled to stay calm. When she sat back down for the third time, her Kindle, pen and notepad were her only companions.
The flight attendant returned with emergency instructions and required confirmation that everyone sitting near the exit was aware of and willing to take the necessary responsibility in case of an emergency. Everyone nodded yes, so did she. Before she had a look at the instructions, the flight attendant came back and pulled the thing out of her hands. She didn’t care much. The safety video was screened, a new variation with Lego cartoons, way too upbeat. It ended with a song that went like: ‘It’s a party in the sky with Turkish Airlines!’ The eye-rolling kind of stuff.
She was seated by the isle, next to a young couple. On the other side there was a tall Turkish man and a Dutch couple. Once the food-cart came in sight the Turkish man’s gum-chewing intensified and he was wiggling his leg nervously. He had pre-ordered a meal, different from the others and he was served a coke and a glass of whiskey. The girl asked the flight attendant whether she’d recommend pasta or chicken. She replied pasta but the girl chose chicken anyway and they both laughed about it. After the meal the Turkish man was calm, rolling the icecubes in his plastic cup which didn’t make the nice rattling sound it does when served in glass.
The girl eyed his dessert which he had not touched, it looked like a chocolate mousse but she didn’t ask him whether she could have it. She knew he would probably be happy to share it with her, he seemed amicable enough but she instead fantasized about snatching it when he would go to the bathroom, which he didn’t. He tried making small talk with her but she wasn’t very interested so he turned to the couple next to him. When they got off the plane and into the transfer bus he stood in front of her and tried another attempt at small talk. He said he worked for UTZ, the certified organic label for chocolate and coffee. She thought to herself whether that was why he wouldn’t eat the chocolate dessert as it was likely not made with organic chocolate. He asked her whether she was from Amsterdam and she lied, yes. When they were about to arrive he offered to show her the way and get her through the passport check quickly, she should just follow him. She didn’t seem impressed but followed nevertheless. As soon as they entered the airport he disappeared into the crowd and never looked back, he was that kind of man.
It was after midnight when she finally arrived at the apartment. By then the mental-fog had lifted so she put on some music and danced in the dim light of the kitchen, she made it.
