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life of erin, pop culture, Two-and-a-half-minute Fiction Prahject

Two-and-a-half-minute Fiction ‘Prahject’: Take 6

And on week six, she saw her blog traffic skyrocket (s in flight, POWWWWW, afternoon delight! AAAA-aaaafternoon delight!) Forgive me. A few things before I get to today’s fiction:

1) You know your family’s Fourth of July shindig (though technically on Saturday) is going to be rockin’ when Mom brings home the jumbo package of Solo cups from grocery shopping.

2) Green tea has more flavonoids than broccoli! (I know! I was impressed too, Jill.) I know this because the tea box had a nifty little graphic on it. Turns out flavonoids do all sorts of things. Kills cancer cells, inhibits tumors, prevents diarrhea (this is important for later).

3) I am 110 tweets away from breaking the 1000 barrier. I’ve been on twitter for about a year. I think I could have hit this a while ago if I was truly diligent, but I’m playing for keeps now, Twitter.

Two-and-a-half-minute Fiction 'Prahject'

TAAHMFP VI

OK, fiction time. Take six.

This week’s story is inspired by my visits to the Philadelphia airport. Though not on par with this certain passenger’s experience, it is no less the setting. Ten Prah points to whoever can guess what real life “Ted” I’m referring to. Enjoy and let me know what you think!

“Ugh. My head feels like styrofoam. And, hey mister pilot, that landing was less than smooth. I’ve had better. And now I have to fight this large man across the aisle to see who can stand up first to grab their luggage. Awesome. Wow, he has laser vision on his luggage up there. Should I even bother trying to beat him? And he was just rude to the flight attendant. You’re going down, mister.”

“That was way too difficult. Ah, good grief, where am I? Ooo, oo, restroom!”

“I hate it when the doors open into the stall. Can’t … fit … bag … in … STALL. There. Again, way too difficult.”

“Where’s the water. I have soap but no water. The little red automatic sensor light is on. Try waving your hand … nothing. Let’s try this sink. Bingo. See ya, never airplane germs.”

“Oh, great, a map, where am I going … oh my God! I have to walk there? That’s the opposite end of the airport! This international end better have amazing food.”

“Did that guy just look at me? He definitely looked at me. Did he smile? I think he kinda smiled! Eh, that was kinda sleazy. Especially for an airport, dude. What did your mother tell you about strangers? This isn’t “An Affair to Remember.” Eyes front, lady.

“OK, officially sweating. I have GOT to take this coat off. Wow, this coat is bigger than I thought. Will it lay over my suitcase? Negative. Over the arm it is. Man, it’s heavy too.”

“I really could go for a foot massage right now. But that foot massager machine thingy is not happening. More germs than a mucus convention. But I do want to sit down. My heels are starting to feel like thin sheets of metal hitting the floor. Slow down, what’s the rush? You’ve got an hour and a half to kill before the connection. But I want to eat. You can’t eat in an hour? I can, but I want to take my time. YOU HAVE TIME!”

“Oh, oh, oh, who does this small child belong to? Oh, hey small child, why are you tugging on my shirt? What? I don’t understand you. Oh, small child’s mother! Wherefore art thou? No, no, this is the 21st century, maybe he is cared for by his father. Oh, father!! Seriously, who does this child belong to. I can’t help you kid, I don’t even know what you’re saying. Definitely should have taken Spanish instead of French. Hola! Oh, noooo, don’t cry! I just said hi! I said it right, didn’t I? NO! Don’t use my shirt for a tissue! Aw, come on, kid. You’re making me look delinquent and you’re not even mine. OH, thank God, his mom. Wow, she does not look happy. Dude, I just did you a favor. Your small child could have gotten tangled up with much worse than me. And now I have his snot on my shirt. Don’t look at me that way! Gahhhhhh.”

“People are definitely still staring at me. What do they think I did? Try to steal him? Do I look like someone who needs to drag along a snot-nosed kid right now? I can’t even carry my coat sufficiently. Wow, she is shootin daggers in me. What the hell? OK, now there’s a need to rush.”

“Wow, that woman looks like she’s having trouble. Why does she have an ice cream scoop coming out of her purse? What on earth could you possibly need an ice … OW! Oh, sorry, sir. Guess I can’t gawk and walk at the same time. Hey, my shoulder hurts just as much as yours does, buster, don’t give me that look … “

“And my heel just broke off. What is this The Oregon Trail? Am I going to get dysentery before I get to this gate? GOD.”

‘Oh thank heavens, a moving walkway. Someone’s looking out for me up there.”

“I have to look like a circus act right now. One heel broken, and holding the heel in my hand, coat over the other arm, dragging my suitcase, SWEATING because of this turtleneck, with a nice film of snot on said turtleneck … seriously, if I accept the dysentery willingly, does this nightmare end?”

“OK, we’re on schedule. I have exactly 60 minutes to … wait, why’d that just change. Boarding in 15 minutes?! What? How?! Quick! I need a McDonalds!!

“Yes I’m tapping my unhealed foot at you, woman in front of me. Just because you don’t know how you want your McFrappy-whatsy-whatever fixed doesn’t mean I get to be hungry and late for my flight. MOVE IT, SISTER.”

“Alright, here we go, dinner of champions, two apple pies, fries and a strawberry milkshake. That little kid’s snot earned me that second apple pie. I’m in line, I called Ted to tell him I’m boarding, boarding pass in hand, just waiting for the dysentery to strike.”

“What? That’s my name. Yes, that’s me. What? I’ve been upgraded? But I didn’t … to FIRST CLASS? How? Forget I asked that. Can I take my McDonald’s with me to first class?”

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