More Than 101 Words, None Of Which Is “Dragon”: A Brief Foray Into Second Person

You’ve always had a little bit of a thing for airports. Inasmuch as you hate them in the ways everyone does (everyone walks either too fast or too slow; no one believes this tuna sandwich should cost ten dollars; why must the carpet be so wretched?) you find them inescapably romantic. Especially this one. You step off the jetway and find the “Baggage; Parking; Transport” arrow and angle your meander that direction. Against your better judgment you imagine yourself running ahead of you. “Those without boarding passes not permitted beyond this point” looms ahead and you break into a sprint. He’s leaning on the sign in a suit with his hands in his pockets. He’s already seen you. His steady gaze makes you feel slightly foolish for running, and a little flushed. He pulls his hand out of his pocket. It isn’t empty. He’s dropping to one knee… —”Caution! The moving walkway is ending!” keeps you from tripping and you decide to pay attention to where you’re going.
You imagine ploughing past all the idiots foolish enough to stand still on these things (even if they are “to the right.”) “Baggage claim” with an arrow pointing straight swings over head, but imaginary you passed it twelve seconds ago. You’re already half way down the escalator. You’re at the bottom and you see the roses before you see his face. You drop your bags and run (like they do in movies) and you’re kissing and you’re wearing a dress instead of sweats, and you’ve showered this morning and your hair smells like citrus instead of airplane food. People are staring and smiling and old couples reach for each other’s hands.
You reach the bottom of the escalator laughing at yourself. You stand by the carousel while nine hundred exactly identical black suitcases shuffle past. Strong arms slide around your waist and you feel a slightly scratchy kiss on your neck. You smell aftershave and sunscreen and you lean your head back onto his shoulder without a word.
Your black suitcase floats past. You shake your head a little, and wander outside to hail a taxi.


~ by ifindthisamusing on July 2, 2008.

One Response to “More Than 101 Words, None Of Which Is “Dragon”: A Brief Foray Into Second Person”

  1. hahaha, so we’ve *both* had the same fantasies about airports!

    man, i always do imagine imaginary me running through the airport, if only to show everyone else it’s a waste of time doing anything else. i need to be a kid again. today i need to be a kid again.

    and this once again proves that unless you have a great imagination (or even if you do), the best details come transposed from real life.

    welcome home.

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