The most important thing you need to
remember about me: I'm impulsive.
Which, I have to admit, doesn't always
make for the greatest decisions.
The biggest amount of trouble I've gotten
into has to be the time when I worked
as a flight attendant. I had a deranged
couple in the first class who fought
through most of the tiresome long-haul
flight. It escalated without a warning
when he smashed his champagne glass
and pressed it against her throat. Instinct
took over and I was on him in a flash.
I rammed him with my beverage cart
before I attacked him with Chanel No.
I may have saved her life, but I had also
gotten fired.
Granted, not fired in an old fashioned
sense, but in a new, modern way. Which
translates into me being rewarded by
getting a paid leave of absence for a
remaining year of my contract. And an
unspoken promise that there would
never be another contract again.
Devastated that I had to leave my dream
behind, I pulled a Frankie Petrovic
classic. I acted on spur-of-the-moment,
bought a trailer and be the rest of the
year on the road.
I glanced out the window of Mary's Diner
just in time to see four friends stumbling
out of a bar from across the street. They
were laughing, having the time of their
lives. I couldn't remember the last time I
had tumbled out of a bar.
I grabbed a tall glass from the table I sat
at and took a sip of water, wishing the
diner offered wine. Cracking a smile as
an idea occurred to me, I pushed away
my half-empty plate of grilled vegetables
and fries. I waveda waitress over, paid
for my dinner, left a generous tip and
said goodnight.
Walking across the street, I let my hair
down. Thick blonde waves fell on my
shoulders and cascaded down my back.
A few turquoise highlights could be
seen- yet another consequence of my
I-got-fired breakdown. I ran my fingers
through it, trying to tame the lion's mane
look I rocked.
I inspected my clothes critically. Browwn
boots, worn-out jeans, and a form-fitting
green top. Nothing fancy, but my
lucky top would help me pull it off as
a going out outfit. I rarely wore it out
of superstition that its magical powers
wouldn't work if I wore it all the time.
With some difficulty, I pulled the
ridiculously heavy doors of the bar open
and stumbled in. Right at the entrance, I
halted to let my eyes adjust to the dark
and foggy room. The smell of cigarettes
was heavy and the smoke slowly weaved
through the thick air.
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