Making Friends Isn't Easy

Part I – The Airport

Sitting at the same airport bar he's been to half a dozen times this month already. He slowly sips his scotch and water and looks around the different terminals to see if he can spot anyone familiar. No one he knows personally, instead he looks for the type of traveler he's seen at every transportation mecca he's been to. He has his routine and he likes it. Always getting to the airport earlier than he needs to, his friends would call him crazy for leaving so early, but he enjoys the airport, there is a certain pulse to it, the people are the blood to this place as they pass in and out of the major arteries of the airport, some bringing the blood to the heart, others taking it away. It's easy to spot which way the blood is pumping. Just look at their faces, do they have an excitement or are they tired from breathing the same recycled air for the past several hours?

A woman takes a seat at the bar two seats over. "What can I get you?" Asks the bartender as he puts down the glass he was drying and tosses the rag over his shoulder almost too perfectly. She thinks for a moment, "what's your well whiskey?" He picks up a bottle of Jack Daniels from the row of ten sitting behind him and places it in front of her. "It's all we have." He tells her. She orders a double whiskey and diet coke. The bartender pours the perfectly measured double, pulls out the soda gun from behind the bar and fills the glass. Dropping two small black straws in and slides it over. "Thank you" The bartender nods back.

"Open up a tab?"

"No, just the one thank you, I have to drive."

She hands the bartender a twenty-dollar bill and tells him to keep the change.

She takes hold of the drink with her slender hands tipped with ruby red nails, bringing the straws to her mouth. Her lips are the same shade of red as her nails as they wrap themselves around the drink. She senses someone looking at her and looks to the side.

He didn't know what to think of her. Red lips, red nails, brown hair pulled into a tight ponytail, his dream woman he thought to himself as he watched her order her drink and take a sip. He couldn't take his eyes off her. Right up until she looked over at him. He knew he was caught and instantly felt embarrassed. "guh" is all he could manage to get out as he turned quickly away. Taking a sip from his scotch, then the water, he turns back to her and apologizes.

"I'm sorry for staring but so few people actually put effort into coming to the airport any more these days."

"and how would you know I've put in effort?" she shoots back, peeved that he's talking to her.

"Well, look around you. I spent a lot of time at airports, a lot and I mean, heck. Just look around you, what do you see? You see neck pillows, flip flops, hoodies, sweat pants. Clothes that people are normally embarrassed to go to a Seven Eleven in, but have no issues going to the airport in them."

"Okay, I see your point. It's true, I do have all these things too, except my neck pillow is in my bag and I wish I could wear sweatpants and flip flops but once I work right up until I land. Never a dull moment in my line of work."

"Fair enough."

"But what about you huh?" She asks. "Look at you, you're in a suit and tie, it's not the fifties anymore, you don't have to dress up to go to the airport." She tells him after giving him the once over with her eyes. He looks like your average thirty something sales man. Slim fit suit, short black hair on the top, tight on the sides with a fade. No glasses, can't show weakness, he might not even need them. He looks like the man ad agencies try to sell their product too. If you ride this Schwinn bicycle you too can look just like this man.

"Hi, I'm Ben and yes, you're right. I like to put in effort at the airport too, I didn't mean to come off as judgy, I appreciate the fact that you too came in looking like a human being, not a slob.