A Cleaning Mission

Articles

Holly Winter
Living The Life Of Holly

A Cleaning Mission
July 7, 2003

“Excuse me.” He called to my running back.

I turned around. “Me? You need me? I’m trying to catch a bus.” My feet were still moving in the opposite direction.

“Yes. I NEED you.” He smiled.

Man. I hate lonely security guards. I stopped running.

“Fraid I’m going to have to ask you to move your car.” He said authoritatively.

I looked at my car. It was parked, neatly, right next to lots of other nice little cars in the airport parking lot. “Why?” I tried to keep the impatience and annoyance out of my voice. My bus was waiting for me. I had a plane to catch.

“Well. You’ve taken up two parking spots.” He said, slowly.

I wasn’t going to argue. But. The fact that my car was pointing forward could have landed me an award in the Parking Hall of Fame according to my friends. But. Well. He didn’t know me.

“You need to move your car.” He smiled as he stopped his car.

I took a deep breath and returned to my car, started it, backed it up, and moved it three inches closer to the blue car.

How totally annoying. Ten bucks said he was going to try to get a date. No. A hundred bucks.

He watched me climb out of my car and pick up my bag. “See. Now you won’t get a warning ticket form me.”

“Lucky me. Thanks. Gotta go. Bye.”

“When will you be back? I’m here all the time. Maybe I’ll see you!”

“Two weeks.” I lied. I was on my way to New York City to clean out my crash pad. I could no longer afford the luxury of keeping a place in New York for the possibility that I would start working there again. My flight benefits were about to run out. This was my last chance to get my stuff home. I would have done it sooner, but I had that head banging headache, and couldn’t fly for the last week.

“Tell me when you’ll be back in Denver. We’ll have coffee.” He said.

“Sorry.” I yelled as I ran for my bus. “I only drink coffee with my boyfriend.”

He called after me. “It’s only coffee.”

Yeah. Like I would drink coffee with a control freak who obsesses about parking. No thanks.

At the airport security check point they pulled my bag.

“What do you see?” I asked. To me x-ray machines are a bit like psychics.

“A pair of scissors.” He said.

Yeah. No. I would never put scissors in my carry on. They did find an eyelash curler. Hey. I know. I’m kind of dangerous when those lashes are flaring just right. They put the bag through two more times just to be sure that the scissors hadn’t shifted.

I had two more days before I would lose my flying privileges. Man. I was going to miss flying for free. Miss all these security check points and airport parking lots. I like every part of the adventure of flying all the time. I even like walking around airports. Ralph always said that I would tire of this lifestyle and find it more of an inconvenience than a story. Then when I didn’t, he insisted that I was being contrary. Ha. He never considered that I might be one of those people who craved the excitement of the unknown airport.

I would get into NYC at ten o’clock tonight, and leave on the first flight out in the morning. It wasn’t going to be an easy trip, but at least I could save my friends from having to pack up my stuff for me.

“Hi. I’m Holly from jetBlue. Thanks for the ride. Let me know if you need anything.” I said to the head flight attendant.

“Anytime, girl. Hey. Are you done with that newspaper?”

I laughed. “I am now.” And handed it over.

The flight attendant in the back slowed me down. “Where are you sitting?”

“13B.”

“You fly for jetBlue?” He asked, spying my ID.

“I do. I’m Holly. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Holly. Of course. Welcome! If YOU need anything, let ME know.”

“Thanks.” I laughed. “How about a neck massage?”

He turned to the woman sitting next to me. “That’s your job. jetBlue lets me fly on them ALL THE TIME. Give Holly a neck massage once we hit ten thousand feet.”

The handsome man in the window seat spoke up. “Hey, that’ll be my job.”

Everyone laughed.

“Will you be watching TV? It’ll be my treat.” The flight attendant offered.

“That would be great.” I smiled.

Life in the airplane is always easier. Why is that? Oh. I know. It must be related to my love of traveling. I relaxed into my seat and got to know the people around me.

And so my farewell-to-flying-for-free party started.

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About the author: Holly Winter is a teacher and a writer and a flight attendant living in Denver, Colorado, USA. She can be reached at her website or email: Holly@livingthelifeofholly.com

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