TWENTY EIGHT: THE RESTROOMIt took almost forever, but I did finally get past checkpoint. Believe me, I was still fuming. I manoeuvred my way through the tiny aisle, slipping past women drowning themselves in Chanel No. 5, 12 (and lord only knows what else) and men carrying newspapers under their arms, while muttering under their breaths. I found myself sandwiched between an elderly gentleman in Michael Jackson type pants (you know, the pants that only ever reach up to the ankles?), who kept asking ‘Isn’t it exciting?’ like I was four, and a business man who just kept glaring at me whenever I moved. When I leaned over to ask for the chicken teriyaki instead of the beef stroganoff, he actually had the nerve to reprimand me “Do you mind?!” I had enough at this point, so I just pulled my lips into a thin smile, grabbed the water off my pullout desk and poured the remainder of the contents on his face. “No, I don’t mind” Despite my triumph, the businessman made a fuss about his new Armani suit and demanded to change seats- not his, mine. I had to move. He also threatened me, saying ‘I’ll sue your ass, missy, be sure about that’ For a businessman, he sure lets his emotions dictate. There were fewer people at the back of the economy section (I now know why) so I had an entire row to myself. Bliss. I thought, well, least now I can actually stretch my legs and take a nap. Just as I was about to fall asleep though, some sort of screech echoed through from the other side of the plane and I could just hear the faint sounds of glasses clanking onto the floor. Rich bastards, never having any consideration for others. I waved a hostess over, who took her damn time and might I add, and didn’t even smile. “Yes, Ms, what can I do for you?” “Can you please tell the people up there” I pointed through the curtain as a steward came through “To keep it down please? I’m trying to concentrate” She forced a vague smile, but not before I caught her rolling her eyes “I’ll see what I can do” Talk about bad service! They’re paid to smile, you’d think it would be written into their contract! So I finally fell into a restless sleep, invaded by the lyrics to ‘Tragedy’, punctuated by a craving for Ben and Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge ice cream, things I learnt in senior calculus, Gap pants that were way too big and- okay, I was lying. That’s what I’d prefer myself to have been thinking. The fact is though, I was still steamed that he cut in and got served first, just because he had some sort of intangible thing called “Star Power”. Then, he had the nerve to turn around and say ‘You screwed my career, now get lost’. And the entourage- c’mon if you wanted to be inconspicuous, he should have gone through the back, and what ab- Wait. What the hell am I doing? Why is it after all this, I’m still thinking about the jerk?! Am I going insane? “Ms? Sir? Mrs?... Kid?” Why is it that the lines to the restrooms stretch like boa constrictors after a meal? How come no one ever goes during? Why do we all go at the same time? I’m about to piss in my pants! “Hello?” I hear a gag, then a loud “blah”… well, someone had a bit too much with the complimentary scotch. I figured whoever was in there was going to be a while, so I, being the lateral thinker I am, decided to use the one at the back. Engaged? What was this? Some sort of protest? “Sir, there’s a restroom down in economy” a steward informed me. “Cool, thanks” I mutter as I make my way to the one on the other side. I’ve forgotten what economy was like- and noting the cramped, stuffy conditions; man, was I was glad I no longer had to go through this. The restroom was engaged, but as I was about to turn away, I heard the hollow, waterless flush. Finally. I was impatient as I watched the lock turn from the red ‘engaged’ to green ‘vacant’ – My excitement died, however, when I realize who engaged it. “What are you doing here?” “Get lost, I’m using the restroom” I replied as I tried to push her aside, but her masculine qualities must have overridden her feminine ones, ‘cos she had to stage her one ‘man’ protest. “Go back to your own restrooms!” “They’re all full” I muttered, holding onto my pants while I tried to bulldoze my way through. “Then wait till they’re finished!” I had enough. I pushed her aside, without locking the door and began to undo my pants. I heard a groan escape from her lips (what’s new?) before she muttered, “For god sake, have some respect for other people!” before I heard the door slam behind me. Ah, who the hell cares? My freakin’ career’s goin’ down a hellhole, what’s a little more exposure? I flushed the toilet, washed my hands, dried my hands, checked my goatee (it was fine, thanks for asking) and unlocked the door. “Finished” I had just begun to walk back, when I hear another snide comment. “…you’d think you’d be able to afford some manners” Did I say I had enough? “Fuckin’ hell Minna, what’s your problem?!” “What do you think, dickhead?” People had begun to watch, so I pushed a very stubborn Minna back into the restroom. “Get your filthy hand off me” “They’re clean, I just washed with soap” I assured snidely as I pointed to the hand wash adjoined on the side. “What the fuck is wrong with you, anyway? Don’t you have to force your opinions before some unsuspecting readers?” Her eyes crossed in maddening anger, and if her eyes could change colour- they would have been flame red. “Oh wait” I snickered “That’s right- you lost your position!” “No thanks to you!” “And I’m supposed to take some responsibility for your PMS?” “PMS? It’s so like you men to put it down to that!” “It’s in the books, sweetness, men are rational, not like you neurotic women” “You men are all the same” she seethed angrily. I don’t know if it was hours in the air or what, but I was more agitated than I was when I was on the ground; the more she spoke, the more I wanted to rip her into shards. "Fine, go on, tell yourself, the whole world you hate men. Go ahead, live that lie" I sneered, stubbing out the cigarette in the glass ashtray. "But I'll tell you the truth now, see how you cope" I continued to rage. Licking my lips in anticipation, I closed his eyes briefly, before delivering the final blow. “You don’t hate men, you’re friggin scared of them” She paused for a moment, bewildered, like a deer caught in headlights. I hit where she was weakest and boy, didn’t she know it. “What the hell do you know about my fears?” she finally spluttered. "I know enough not to deny the way I feel" "Yeah, you don't fuckin' hold back how much you hate me that’s for sure" she muttered bitterly, crossing her arms across her chest. "You fuckin' know thats not the case" Her eyes narrowed as she stared at me with those green eyes, deeper than any ocean and more pronounced than any emerald. My head was spinning, as though I wasn't exactly in that exact place at that moment. "I feel you now, even though you don’t want to admit it" her eyes were wet, yet they were angry, with fury, hatred and loathing. “I know you feel me” I knew I had her. "I deserve a try, Minerva!" "A try?" she scoffed as tears began to fog her green eyes. "Whadda ya think this is? A football game? Well, then I guess every fucking guy deserves a try, huh?" "Yes, I deserve a try!" she paused and I watched her mouth quiver, shaking her head. "Why do you deserve a try, AJ? Because you’re a Backstreet Boy and you think can have anyone you want? Be-" “Shut the hell up and listen to me!” I pulled her up, real close, and I swear, I spotted a hint, and (I mean a hint) a fear. She bit one of those luscious lips; and I just, lost it- completely. “I could have screwed this gorgeous woman last night, but I didn’t” “What? Cos you were thinking about me right? How stupid do you think I am to fall for that line?” “It’s not a fuckin’ line, and you know it” She was quiet for once as she looked away; I could feel her body heave against mine as she began shuddering. It felt so right, holding her this close. |
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sayamaru and 'Bittersweet Rhapsodies' 2001-02 No
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