Awakenings: The Greek, The Russian and Me

Chapter 8

Thank heavens I got called to come to work early, I tell myself as I board the bus in the employee parking lot to take me to the terminal. The weekend couldn't have been worse, and I haven't heard from Conn since Saturday night. Nothing better than going back to work on Monday on an extra long shift to get my mind off him.

"Fran, come have a seat here," I hear someone say, and as I look up, Pam is waving her hand at me. "Are you all right? You look tired, and we haven't even started the shift," she exclaims as she looks me over with motherly concern.

I smile at her. "Just busy with lots of work for school, some assignments that are coming due soon, laundry and cleaning at home—there never seems to be enough time for everything."

She puts her arm around my shoulder, giving me a half hug. "Honey, you're taking life too seriously. There will always be cleaning and laundry to do, and once things are clean, they only get dirty again. It's a never-ending cycle, so don't expect to ever be caught up. Focus on your schoolwork as your main priority, but at the same time, don't forget that you will only be young once. I never hear you talk about anything fun; you're focused on your to- do list all the time. If you keep that pace up, you will burn out soon. Go out with some friends; forget about all your obligations for at least one day. You will see that a break can actually be beneficial for you mentally. Live a little."

I smile as I lightly lean my head on her shoulder. "I know. I think you are right! I'm going to take part of my spring break and just forget about all my responsibilities. How about that?" I reply, unable to contain a giggle.

"That's a girl! You know, if you ever need to talk to someone, I'm here," she says, giving me a wink.

Getting off the bus, I see that the terminal is very busy. We both look at each other with a knowing expression—it's going to be a long shift. As we make our way to- ward the restaurant employee entrance in the terminal, I can't help recognizing the sound of Greek being spoken. My heart feels a sudden pang of pain, as I haven't heard from Conn since he dropped me off Saturday evening. Just thinking of him makes me ache. I notice that Pam is holding the door open, and I rush through. "It seems like there are several flights delayed already," she says as she hastily shoves her belongings in the locker and adjusts her uniform.

"We best get going. The lines will be going down the stairs in while," I reply glumly.

As we settle ourselves in the cashier station, I hear the terminal announcement: "Flight 3790, service to Athens, has been delayed. Please go to the customer service center in the main lobby for further details and to obtain your meal voucher." I quickly check my station, making sure that I have everything I need before the rush begins. Taking a deep breath, I conversationally ask Pam, "Have you ever been to Athens? They say it's beautiful and has so much history."

She smiles as if transported to a faraway place. "About twenty-five years ago, when they used to give us flight benefits, I had the opportunity to travel the world. I was also much younger, and believe it or not, I was pretty good-looking for my time. I spent three days in Athens with some friends. We walked the city streets. Saw many ancient ruins and marveled at the views from the Parthenon. At night we went to cafés and even to some nightclubs. Honey, I can tell you, those Greeks really know how to enjoy life, but at the same time, they are very traditional in their customs." Our conversation is cut short as customers begin to arrive.

Today I find myself working slower and observing the passengers in my line with curiosity. I want to learn more about the Greeks, something that can make me understand them better. My only experience with them so far is with Conn and briefly his two friends. Unconsciously I scan the passengers passing through my line and am able to identify pretty quickly who is Greek, occasionally misidentifying an Italian for a Greek. I'm fascinated as I see similar features from Conn on many. I'm intrigued by their overall self-confidence. What appear to be single men mostly flirt outrageously and seem good-humored; the women are very different. They are well-groomed, with a full face of makeup, well dressed, and wearing jewelry. For the most part, they don't engage in conversation with others and almost seem as if they are looking down their noses at others. The women are lively and animated in their groups and with their companions. I am mesmerized; all my focus is on people who speak this language I now recognize but have no clue of what they say. Realization hits me: this is exactly the way it was at school, except that a good majority of these people are much older than college students.