Page 14 of Big Sexy Love
Wow.Sunday Night Liveis a huge American sketch comedy show. Even Iknowthat.
‘Oh, I love that show!’ check-in woman says, fully awake now. ‘That Beyoncé Lemonade Parody you guys did. I saw it on YouTube. It made me laughsomuch!’
‘Thanks,’ I hear the man reply. ‘If you let me through you will be saving the next episode from disaster, Iswear!’
God, how dramatic. Who would even fallforthat?
Then, to my outrage, the woman puts her hand out to take the man’s passport. He only has a large record bag lobbed across his body and a tiny hand-luggage-sized suitcase, so with a few clicks on the computer he’s checked in and she’s ushering him through to the departure lounge before anyone canprotest.
‘Thank you, thank you!’ he mutters, hurrying through the walkway by the check-in desk. But before he disappears from sight, he turns on his heel, points at me and calls out, completely straight-faced: ‘Nicefannypack.’
Oh my god. WHAT did he just say to me? I blush a crimson red, my mouth opening and closing like a Hungry HungryHippo.
It takes me a moment to figure out that fanny pack is American for bumbag and that this bespectacled stranger wasn’t complimenting my vajeen. But before I can respond with anything more than a disgusted shake of the head, the queue jumper hasdisappeared.
Honestly, some people are justsorude.
* * *
Turnsout I was completely duped about what the airport would be like based on the check-in area. It is not calm and organised and serene. It is FreakingCrazy!
I stand stock-still in the departure lounge, eyes wide in disbelief as to how totally different it is to the zen-like check-in area. Here, it’s crowded and loud and grim. There are children running around unattended, huge groups of men wearing matching T-shirts and women in headbands with miniature penisesatopthem.
I blink and try not to let the chaos terrify me into turning around and going right back home to my bed and to my job and to my little life that’s safe and comforting and wonderfullypredictable.
I shuffle forward a few steps, wondering where the perfume shops are and where I might buy a book, when I hear a kid behind me yellingwithglee.
‘Look at it! Look at it go!’ hesqueals.
I turn around curiously, following his gaze to a huge glass window wall on the other side of the departure lounge and my throat freezes up. I do an actual gasp. Because, right there, through the window is a massive airplane speeding down the runway, the front wheels tilted off the ground at an angle that does not, in any way, look okay. I swallow hard, my eyes wide. Of course I’ve seen airplanes take off before on TV and in movies, but seeing it up close and knowing that in a few short hours I will be sitting on one of them as it cranks away into thesky.Argh!
I waddle slowly towards the massive window, watching as the back of the airplane lifts off from the ground. It looks so heavy and unstable. It can’t possibly be safe. It looks ridiculous. How is it doing that? Why is it tilting? Surely, that can’t beright?
‘Check out that lass! She’s turnedgreen!’
My thoughts of doom are interrupted by deep voices and laughing from my left. I turn around to where a group of muscular men are sitting around an open-plan bar table, guzzling pints while laughing and pointingatme.
‘You look a bit unwell there, love,’ one of them, a huge muscled guy with tanned skin and nice sideburns, saystome.
‘Green in the face,’ another of the group adds,helpfully.
‘Do you, like, needtopuke?’
‘Uh, I’m fine,’ I say, my eyes flicking to the now empty space outside where the airplane once was. Where is it? Is that it right up there? That dot going into the clouds? How is it in the sky? Why have I never really thought about thisbefore?
‘You don’t look it,’ another guy with curly blonde hair says. ‘You definitely look like you’re goingtopuke!’
I shake my head. ‘Just a bit nervous about flying, I think. I’ll be allright!’
I make to leave, to find somewhere quiet to sit, to maybe listen to that Still Minds app I’ve been meaning to listen to, when the hunk with the sideburns asks, ‘Where are you offtothen?’
‘New York,’ I answer, feeling a little flicker of pride as I do. It does sound super cool when I say it out loud. ‘Manhattan, actually,’Iadd.
‘Hey! New York! Get me a cup of cawfee! And a chilli dawg!’ the men start saying over each other, laughing loudly at their terrible impressions of a New York accent. I can’t help but laugh a little as one of them adds ‘I like brunch!’ and when he can’t think of anything else to say, he says ‘Get me a cup of cawfee’ again, to which they all laughuproariously.
‘We’re going to Australia for the rugby,’ Sideburns says. ‘But our flight’s been delayed. We’ve been sitting here for three hoursalready.’
Behind me I hear another plane taking off. I spin around, my eyes wide, my stomach dipping as it wobbles its way intotheair.
