eat crow

He met his first wife at the airport Applebee’s. He was loaded on double Grey Goose and limes and she was six High Life’s in. He was going to Atlanta and she was going to Boise. Both their flights were delayed on account of tornados which themselves were on account of Ford Expeditions and McMansions and whatever.

He caught her making eyes at him from across the bar. That single ladies song by Beyonce was playing on the Muzak system. Three songs later (Smokey Robinson; one of the songs with “tears” in the title), they were sitting next to each other sharing an appetizer of jalepeno poppers. Two songs after that (neither could recall the title), they were frenching in the washroom.

Just before they boarded their respective flights they swapped digits and agreed to meet for dinner once they were both back in town.

On the airplane that evening it occurred to him how odd a thing attraction was when one really thought about it. Everyone had two eyes and a nose and a mouth. Generally speaking there was very little to distinguish a particular girl from any other. The physical differences were less than minute — they were negligible. And truth be told, who didn’t shake their shoulders to Beyonce while buzzed at the airport Applebee’s? The only explanation for his attraction to this girl (or any girl before her) was fate or God or something telling him to.

He fell asleep on the red eye with the strangest sensation that he could die; that the plane could plummet from the ink black Kansas sky and he’d be okay with it. It was like a reverse suicidal thought. He was so content he could accept death. It lasted only briefly.

The next week after his conference was done and he was back at home, he called the girl and they met for dinner. It didn’t go so hot. They struggled to make conversation and the oysters they shared gave her a pretty bad stomach ache which resulted in them canceling their plans to see Thor 3D later in the night.

They politely said goodbye and walked their separate ways. They both figured they’d never see each other again. Perhaps the magic that transpired between them at the airport Applebee’s was a drunken fluke. Sigh. But six days later they ran into each other while in line at Starbucks. So they sat a little while in a corner booth and they drank their gay little mochas and it was nice again.

How rare. Niceness. How incredibly rare one felt nice nowadays.

A year and two months later they were married.

6 years after that they were divorced.

My “Lost” addiction is getting serious. Damn you Netflix instant cue.

Thanks, HAMBY

One of my favorite 1980′s tunes. Pure surf garage anxiety.

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