A few days ago I was fake angry. Today I’m angry for real.
Today’s good deed: TAKE OFF YOUR CRANKY PANTS
I’m standing in the street with my suitcase. I’ve called 3 times for a taxicab and it still hasn’t arrived. I’m not going to make my flight.
It’s 104 degrees in the shade. It’s sweltering and I’m dressed in long pants and a thick top so as not to get cold on the airplane. Wavy heat lines are rising up from the pavement. I want to throw a chair through a window. All that was missing was Rosie Perez dancing to ‘Fight the Power’ from Spike Lee’s Do the Right Thing.
I spot the cab creeping up the street cautiously looking for addresses as if the woman waving in the street isn’t hint enough to where he’s supposed to be. The cabbie stops the car just shy enough for me to still have to walk to him. I motion to my suitcase and he reluctantly pops the trunk. I have to load it myself.
I tell him immediately that I’m running late for a flight. This does not affect his speed in the slightest. He takes the highway and drives 53mph … in a 70mph zone.
My flight leaves in 49 minutes and we’re still ten minutes away. He tells me to relax.
I tell him where I need to be dropped off. He chuckles and says, “I know where it is.” I give him an 85 cent tip and he looks incredulous.
The woman at the ticket counter, in between talking to her girlfriend, tells me that since my luggage was checked in late, it might not make the flight. The woman at the security checkpoint could be a witch for Halloween in her every day clothes. I make it to my gate as the last passengers board.
I decide to breath. I’ve made my flight. All is well. Stewing about my cab ride wasn’t going to help me. Besides, this was a first world problem.
I ignore my surroundings for a while by closing my eyes. I open them right when snacks arrive. I unbuckle my cranky pants.
I missed drink service but the steward offers me something anyway. The cranky pants are now unzipped.
The flight is a little bumpy, so much so that the woman sitting on the aisle grabs ahold to the seat in between us. I ask if she’s doing alright. I start thinking about someone else. The cranky pants are now thigh high and on their way down.
We land safely and my cranky pants are all but off. I exit the plane and walk closely behind a man who is pulling his carry-on to baggage claim. Suddenly he stops and rips a toot that would have made Dizzy Gillespie proud. I couldn’t help but laugh as my cranky pants came tumbling down!!
Photo (Flickr CC) by Global Jet