It Started in Paris

Chapter Two: On The Way To Paris

This  is  it.  This  is  my  chance  to  impress  my  boss.  I  thought  she  was  never  going  to  see  through  me  but  she did!  And  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  I'm  going  to  set  foot  on  a  different  continent.

Toothbrush,  check.  Toothpaste,  check.  Makeup  kit,  check.  Countless  pairs  of  undergarments,  check.  Business  suits,  check.  Casual  clothes,  check.  Pairs  of  shoes,  check.  Laptop,  check.  Okay,  I  think  I  didn't  forget  anything...at  least  I  think  I  didn't. I put in a swimsuit at the last minute. Just in case.

Well,  there's  no  time  to  waste. I  zipped  my  luggage  and  clicked  the  lock  in just as the doorbell  rang. I peeped through the hole and unlocked  the  door to Leila  standing  with  her  pink  luggage.  "Come  in!"  I  beamed.

Leila  and  I  have  arranged  to  meet  at  my  place  and  wait  for  the  carpool  to  arrive to  take  us  to  the  airport.

Leila  lugged  her  pink  baggage  and  her  hand-carry  and  marveled at my  place.  "Oh...so  this  is  your  apartment."  She  observed  the  white  leather  couch  on  the  left  and  the  flat  screen  in  front  on  top  of  a  glass  TV  table.  On  the  right  was  the  minimalist  kitchen  and  the  modest  dining  room.

"Yup,"  I  said  proudly.

"It  looks  homey,"  she  said  congenially.

"Thank  you."

"Do  you  live  alone?"  she  asked.

I  nodded.  "Yeah."  I  grabbed  a  slice  of  pizza  and  leaned  on  the  counter  propping  my  elbows  on  the  surface.  "I've  put  up  a  roommate  ad  on  the  Internet. I've  had  interested  responses  from  some  people  but  when  I  interviewed  them  online,  they  sound  incapable."

"Oh!  I've  been  looking  for  an  apartment  ever  since  I've  graduated  college  but  I  cannot  find  any  decent,  but,  affordable  apartment.  My parents  have  been  nagging  me  to  move  out."

An imaginary  bulb lit up  on the top  of  my  head.  "We  can  be  roommates!"

Leila  squealed.  "When  do  I  move  in?"

"Anytime!"

We  tittered  in  excitement  as  we  gobbled  up  our  pizzas.

A moment later, there  was  a  car  honking  outside.  I  stuck  my  head  out  the  window  to  check.  Leila  ran  after  and  poked  her  head  out  next  to  mine. We  saw  a  blue  van waiting right  in  front  of  the  building with an old man waving to us beside the car.

"I  think  that's  our  ride,"  Leila  guessed.

We  lugged  our  bags  down  to  the  ground  floor.  The  bulky  chauffeur  whom  I  almost  mistook  as  Santa  Claus,  if  not  for  his  long-sleeved  blue  overalls,  plunked  our  luggage  at  the  back  of  the  car.  He  opened  the  passengers'  seat.  Leila  and  I  went  inside.  Santa  Claus slid  the  door  shut.  Leila  and  I  tittered  in  excitement  as  Santa  Claus  drove  us  to  John  F.  Kennedy  International  Airport. When we have arrived, he  got  out  of  the  car  and  glided  our  door  open.  He  smiled  and  said,  "Here  we  are."

Leila  and  I  hopped  out  of  the  car  and  waited  until  our  bags  were  brought  down  from  the van.

"Bon  voyage,  ladies!"  Santa  Claus  said.

I  noticed  a  tiny  black  stitched  name  tag  on  his  uniform  in  silver  writing  that  says  "Doug".

"Thanks  for  the  ride,  Doug!"  I  said  then  turned,  tugging  my  white  hard-case  along.

"You're  so  mean!"  Leila  giggled.

"What?"  I  said,  baffled.

"I  think  he's  a  nice  old  man  and  you  called  him  a  dog."

I  laughed.  "That's  his  name,  silly!"

We  went  in  the  airport  and  underwent the departing procedures  before  boarding  the  plane.

Paris,  here  we  come!