Impractical Assistant

Chapter 1: The Men who Were Late

They were running; well, sprinting was more like it. They were late, again. Which while this wasn't exactly unusual for the group of friends to be late, being this late for a flight from JFK was a problem. Sal cursed under his breath as he dodged his way through the crowds of people. That damn assistant is going to be the death of us, he thought to himself as he glanced over his shoulder at the trio right on his tail. They were still dressed in their outfits from their show that had ended less than an hour ago and he could tell that Murray was sweating through his expensive Italian shirt and into his bowtie that lay askew on his neck. He turned back to round the bend, their gate lay just beyond it. As he rounded the corner first, his heart sunk. The door was closed at the desk crew had already changed the screen to read Boarded. Sal slowed his sprint to a slow jog as Murray squeezed past him to continue his run to the desk. Brian, more affectionately known as Q to his friends, saw what Sal saw and skidded to a stop next to his best friend.

"You've gotta be shitting me," he muttered.

"That's the 3rd time this month that bitch has fucked up our schedules," Sal said, following suit as he stopped to watch Murray begin to flail wildly as he talked to the gate managers. The fourth member of their party was panting heavily as he stopped next to Q. Joe put his hands on his knees and hung his head the sight in front of him, his bag dropping to the cold, unforgiving tile beneath their feet. Q and Sal watched him for a moment before Q raised his voice.

"You alright Joey?"

Joe glared up at him and flipped him the bird before dragging his bag back up his arm to go see how Murray was fairing. Q and Sal watched as their friend left them standing there.

"Think he'll ever be back to normal?" Sal asked Q, crossing his arms in concern.

"I got dumped two weeks before my wedding," Q sighed. "I can't even imagine what Joe's going through. They were together for five years man."

"I know, I know," Sal sighed, running his hands over his face in frustration. "I just...I miss him, you know. Our Joey. Not this Joe."

"Yeah pal," Q clapped his friend on the back. "I know." They stood in silence, watching the flailing from Murray dispel into a defeated collapse of shoulders. Murray threw a glance over his shoulder to make eye contact with Sal, waving them over in a quick jerking motion.

"I've got a feeling we won't make it to Oklahoma until much later than anticipated," Q mumbled, picking his bag up. Sal snorted, following his friend. They arrived at the desk, catching the tail end of the conversation.

"Well we need to get to Oklahoma City as soon as we possibly can," Murray was explaining.

"When's the next flight out?" Joe chimed in.

"The soonest we can get you out of here is..." the woman at the desk paused, long fake nails clicking away at the keyboard in front of her. "Two hours."

"Two hours?!" Joe exclaimed.

"Please, we need to be there as soon as we can," Murray pleaded.

"I understand," the woman nodded. "But that's the first connecting flight to O'Hare before moving on to Oklahoma City. I'm sorry."

"How long will it take us to get there?" Sal chimed in from the back.

"You'll be landing in Oklahoma around 11:30PM local time," she said.

"Which is 12:30 here," Q groaned, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

"And that's the soonest we can make it out?" Murray asked again.

"Yes, I'm very sorry," the woman nodded.

Murray looked back to Sal and Q. "What do you think?"

"We have meetings at 7, man, we gotta get there tonight," Q said.

"No might as well pull an all nighter at this point," Sal grumbled. "We'll barely get any sleep as it is."

"Well let's just get the tickets so we can get out there," Joe sighed, pulling out his wallet.

"I'll call Alan," Sal said, handing his ID over to Joe while pulling out his phone. The three nodded in acknowledgement as the woman began to clack her fingers along the keys once again. He stepped away from the trio as he pulled his phone to his ear. It rang twice before a raspy voice picked up the line.

"You didn't make it."

"Nah, I'm just calling you from the skies to tell you we did," Sal rolled his eyes. "Of course we didn't make it." The voice on the other side of the call sighed. Sal knew their producer Alan was rubbing his face in frustration. "She's gotta go man. We can't keep doing this shit."

"I know," Alan said, his voice muffled."But we can't fire her without a replacement. And it'll take weeks to find one. She worked so well with you guys in the beginning."

"Yeah, and look where we are now. I'd rather have hired someone who was good at their job instead."

"Let me make some calls and see what I can do," Alan said, clearer. "And I'll go have a word with her."

"That's another thing," Sal gestured into the air. "If she's supposed to be our assistant, she needs to be with us instead of running around, chasing after what's-his-name who won't give her the time of day anyway."

"I've told her that," Alan began.

"Well tell her again," Sal cut him off before hanging up angrily. He turned as Murray approached him, ticket in his hand.

"For you," Murray sighed.

"Thanks man," Sal pocketed his phone as Joe extended his arm out to hand him his bag. Sal nodded at Joe who barely inclined his head in return.

"What did Alan say?" Murray asked, adjusting his bag.

"What he always says," Sal grumbled. "We can't just not have an assistant and it'll take weeks to find another one, so we're stuck with her. And she's comfy in the hotel since she's been chasing down that douche of a writer." The three others groaned.

"Can we agree that next time we get an assistant that she isn't a horn dog?" Joe spat. The three nodded. There was a lingering silence that fell over them as they thought to themselves for a moment.

"What now?" Murray finally asked, looking to Sal for their next move.

"Can we go get something to eat?" Q asked, waving his hand to the restaurant down the way. "Our gate is that way anyway and I'm starving."

"I could eat," Murray nodded while Joe grunted in agreement.

"Let's go then" Sal turned, leading the way.