I had one chore on Monday. One thing the whole day was designed for. Making sure I was at Manchester Airport at 5:18PM to pick up my wife. She was flying in from North Carolina after a whirlwind drive down there to deliver a new/used car to my daughter.
My lovely wife is not the World's best traveler. Rather than allowing the inevitable problems of travel roll off her shoulders, she sucks them in and allows them to ferment. Waiting to explode upon the first poor slob who unwittingly creates that next straw. It was my turn yesterday.
Knowing this about her had the obvious affect on my Monday. The flow of my entire day was aimed at making this appointment. I went to the dump early. I took care of shop business and made the obligatory Monday contacts with a few vendors. I gusseyed up the house a tad to hide the bachelor mode I had been in these past 5 days. By 3:00 PM, I was in the truck and headed to Manchester. My day was on time.
Hitting the airport at 4:57 PM sharp, I parked in the A lot. At 5:03 PM sharp I was looking at the Arrival screen. Being 15 minutes early I was on target for an uneventful pick up.
Damn! Flight 7388 from Philly is delayed. It's new arrival time this impersonal screen tells me is now 7:18 PM. Just fucking Great! Not only do I have to sit here for 2 plus more hours, but so does my wife. And with each extra punishing minute in another airport, her demeanor and composure takes an incremental dive into the bucket called "shitty mood".
I head for the news stand. Grab a magazine. And then back to the truck to listen to Jimi Hendrix and wile away the time waiting for a plane with a bad ass wife on board. My anticipation was less than enthusiastic.
At 6:50 PM I head in to check the arrival screen. Double Damn! Not only is Philly #7388 late , it is later now. New arrival time is 7:37PM. I can feel my shoulders drop as I head back to the truck. This is not going to be a joyful ride home to Acton.
At 7:20 PM I decide sitting in the truck sucks. I head in. Who do I see coming at me full bore? That's right, the little woman. Only she looks much larger now. I want to cower and hide. But I can't. She had spotted me and had her patented "I hate your stinking self" look on her mug.
She had landed 15 minutes earlier. Not seeing my smiling face had topped off a very poor day with the airlines. As she laid into me, I resisted the urge to give as good as I got. I just opened the door to the truck, threw her bags in and got in and drove. Did not say a word other than, "Hungry?", the whole way home. Even our stop for grub passed without a word.
It mattered not that I had been where I was supposed to be when I was supposed to be there. No consideration was given to the fact that US Air screwed her up and I did not. I was just there when the explosion happened. Collateral damage.
My lovely wife is not the World's best traveler. Rather than allowing the inevitable problems of travel roll off her shoulders, she sucks them in and allows them to ferment. Waiting to explode upon the first poor slob who unwittingly creates that next straw. It was my turn yesterday.
Knowing this about her had the obvious affect on my Monday. The flow of my entire day was aimed at making this appointment. I went to the dump early. I took care of shop business and made the obligatory Monday contacts with a few vendors. I gusseyed up the house a tad to hide the bachelor mode I had been in these past 5 days. By 3:00 PM, I was in the truck and headed to Manchester. My day was on time.
Hitting the airport at 4:57 PM sharp, I parked in the A lot. At 5:03 PM sharp I was looking at the Arrival screen. Being 15 minutes early I was on target for an uneventful pick up.
Damn! Flight 7388 from Philly is delayed. It's new arrival time this impersonal screen tells me is now 7:18 PM. Just fucking Great! Not only do I have to sit here for 2 plus more hours, but so does my wife. And with each extra punishing minute in another airport, her demeanor and composure takes an incremental dive into the bucket called "shitty mood".
I head for the news stand. Grab a magazine. And then back to the truck to listen to Jimi Hendrix and wile away the time waiting for a plane with a bad ass wife on board. My anticipation was less than enthusiastic.
At 6:50 PM I head in to check the arrival screen. Double Damn! Not only is Philly #7388 late , it is later now. New arrival time is 7:37PM. I can feel my shoulders drop as I head back to the truck. This is not going to be a joyful ride home to Acton.
At 7:20 PM I decide sitting in the truck sucks. I head in. Who do I see coming at me full bore? That's right, the little woman. Only she looks much larger now. I want to cower and hide. But I can't. She had spotted me and had her patented "I hate your stinking self" look on her mug.
She had landed 15 minutes earlier. Not seeing my smiling face had topped off a very poor day with the airlines. As she laid into me, I resisted the urge to give as good as I got. I just opened the door to the truck, threw her bags in and got in and drove. Did not say a word other than, "Hungry?", the whole way home. Even our stop for grub passed without a word.
It mattered not that I had been where I was supposed to be when I was supposed to be there. No consideration was given to the fact that US Air screwed her up and I did not. I was just there when the explosion happened. Collateral damage.
4 comments:
I hate flying, too. I try not to let things get under my skin, but I just hate all the waiting, airports, security checkpoints, cramped quarters, close proximity to strangers, etc. Flying is always very stressful for me.
It sounds like you did everything right. I guess waiting in the truck was the thing that got you in trouble ... and I understand why she was irked, but it's really not your fault the airlines screwed up. Good job keeping your cool.
Nonetheless, let this be a lesson to you: next time, wait in the lobby! It'll be safer for everyone.
This is a great-great piece of work, Macrum. (Finally figured out how to navigate your blog-site, with no specific help from you.) I've read about a dozen from various categories (so THAT's how a blogger organizes a blog-site!) and found them all really well done. You've captured a nifty voice in your blog-writing. Excellently chosen topics to go on about, and with neat concise style. So taken with this one in particular that I'm forwarding the link to my web-master friend, who's got his own wife stories to tell.
MDS
From The Bad-Ass Wife:
You want to see bad-ass? Wait 'til my mug sees you coming in the door today!
To BA - Remember Dear - My Header - "I have a sensitive nature". Be gentle.
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