You Never Forget Your First Time (in the Inland)

The Arrival

As Angelica flipped through the Primer on Inland Culture on the plane, she didn't understand why her company had wanted to send her to Des Moines on Friday when her meeting was not until Monday. It wasn't like she had never traveled before. She had vacationed in Nova Scotia, New Haven, Atlantic City, Charleston, Miami, Biloxi, Galveston, and San Diego.

And she really did not understand this Primer on Inland Culture her boss had insisted she take with her. Her boss had told her they wanted to send her a few days ahead of time to "acclimate" to the culture. He said he did not want the different culture to "distract" her during the meeting.

How insulting. Angelica considered herself to be very well cultured. She had grown up in Seattle and had been redistributed to San Francisco upon turning eighteen. That, combined with all her traveling, was more than enough to show she knew not everywhere in the world was the same.

One reason she had refused to go on Friday was because she had not wanted to spend so much time away from her husband and kids; the other reason was because she felt like it made her look like an amateur. She compromised by going to Des Moines on Sunday, even though she could have easily left Monday morning and still would have had enough time to set up and prepare for the meeting after arriving. Though this was her first time traveling for business, she knew what she was doing. She did not understand why they treated her like she could not just get on a plane one morning, hold a meeting in a different city, jump on a plane after the meeting, and be home in time for dinner. That's what all her friends who had to travel for business did.

It had been a while since she had traveled, though, so for that reason she was secretly excited for the trip and to see a new city. Every city was different. (See? She already knew that because she had already traveled to so many places. She didn't need to be educated on the fact that every city was different, including having a different culture. That's why she traveled: to see new things and marvel at the architecture and taste the different cuisine and see the different people and landscapes.) She put the Primer back in her carry-on bag. She had skimmed it. That was enough.

As the plane landed, she peered out the window to get a glimpse of the city. Beige was the best she could describe it. Beige everywhere. Rows and rows of beige buildings surrounded by beige haze. Maybe this was just a neighborhood on the outskirts. Maybe the airport was nowhere near the city because she could not see a city anywhere in sight.

At the baggage claim, there were no handlers as far as she could tell. She saw other Coastals getting their own bags off the conveyor belt, so she did the same. Then, she followed them and got in line for a taxi, nodding to and greeting the other Coastals in line in front of her and the ones who joined after her.

When it was her turn, the taxi driver enthusiastically exited the car and ran around to open the back passenger door for Angelica.

"Please," she said with a small bow as she motioned toward the inside of the car, "have a seat and make yourself comfortable."

Pleased to have such a cheerful driver, Angelica got in the car while her driver loaded her luggage into the trunk. As soon as she sat down, her knees came up to her chest as her bottom sank nearly through the cushion to the floor. She looked down at the worn and dirty seat she sat on and grimaced.

Her driver got in the driver's seat and turned back toward her and held out her hand.

"Oh," Angelica said as she pulled her itinerary out of her purse, which, unbeknownst to Angelica, had cost the same amount as her driver received for an entire month of work. She pointed to the address of her hotel as she handed her itinerary to the driver.

The driver looked at the name of the hotel and said, "Yeah, I know where it is," and handed the paper back to Angelica. After Angelica took the itinerary from her, her hand remained outstretched.