teflon

[an:114dd37913]This is an actual vacation fictionalized as an outline-type raw material for a story that never developed[/an:114dd37913]
I get a 2 week liberty and I decide to fly home to Detroit. USAir flies from Norfolk. Last time I flew from there with USAir, there was a long flight delay. So I decide to fly with another airline and from another airport. Richmond, or RIC. Because many guys from NORVA are going to be driving that way or actually travelling together to fly out of there.

So finally I get packed, my suit bag, that’s it, all in it. I decide to take my winter dress uniform, all black with black and white cap upside down tucked into the bottom of the suit bag. To show off for family. But the rule says not to show off or else. So here’s the else.

I get a ride to the airport. I was going to be dropped off real close to it after a no-hurry drive outthere. We are going to take a break soon at one big rest area, get us some sandwiches. Less than an hour, after such a nice ride that is very boring on a drive up from Norfolk through the Roads Tunnels, the straightaway up along the Chesapeake, the tire blows. The guy finds out that we are very close to the airport, more like 10-15 minutes. I help him with the jack and get on my way, 100% optimistic, looking forward to adventure.

As I keep walking along the shoulder, I attract attention of a trooper. He wants to check my identity. My accent and story is suspicious. I mentioned that I rode with the guy with the flat tire, that the trooper sure noticed. I had to go through the thourough id check, i.e. my driver’s license, my voting certificate, my military id and my orders, which were least convincing. But I prevailed, it turned out OK, and the deputy even agreed to give me a jump to the terminal. I still had over 3 hours before my flight to Detroit. Waved him thank you.

I booked and I got my boarding pass, all ready, and went for beer and a sandwich. There was a bunch of women at the bar watching baseball and a movie on the other channel, “The Pitcher’s Wife.” They were going to Detroit too. 3 hours flew by nicely, we were ready to fly to Motown. 10 minutes before the boarding, the announcement said our flight is delayed. Then there was another one about technical problems, and then there was something else, and there was cancellation. Everyone was given an option of going with other routes and flights, or be put up for a night and fly the first thing in the morning. I took hotel, because of good mood and the two women choosing same thing.

The evening came out very fun, and the younger woman, maybe Cindy, or Sue, was taken with me as an officer, and we spent the night talking about spies and mystery fun filled travel. But my level of frustration and stress was already elevated. I had tons of energy, and we stayed up very late, when the hotel bar closed. Then we got a quick cab to a nice bar in the neighborhood. We spent more time there, eating nachos, cheese melts and beer. That created romance and I spent the night in her room.
There was morning wakeup call, I got up to see that there is no time for love and romance. Showering first, I dressed and went to the front desk to double check the shuttle to the terminal, etc. My things were in Cindy’s room.

I may have been on the phone to my folks, to the airline, etc a bit anxious calling places to make sure things are going to work out. I’ve seen Cindy pop in and out of her room, even waved her “2 more minutes, all’s OK.”
I get back to the room and before I can get in, I see all my suit bag contents on the floor in the hallway. The room is locked with no response. I realized that she had post-sex depression change of attitude. My uniform ‘s on the floor too. I assume that some of my stuff is still in the room, so I knock and quietly insist that Cindy let me get my things. But there’s silence. Eventually the scene summons THE sheriff’s deputy. He says that I am either accident prone or up to no good. He is not impressed with a man’s sob story of being locked out of a woman’s room. He tests me on if I know the woman. I forget her name. Eventually she opens, he goes in, check room for my stuff and finds nothing. I get issued with an official advisory to get out of town.
At the airport I still have pay $75 for something higher class. They made me show them ID using my charge card. Couldn’t find my driver’s license. I was sure it was lost inside Cindy’s room. Eventually they stuck with my Mil ID. On the plane there was no space in the bag closet to hang my suit bag, so a stewardess stored it on the galley. Then I had to count my money. Turned out I spent over $400 on the unlucky and unplanned part of it. The rest of my Ids turned up in a pocket of the bag, Cindy was nice enough to stick it all into my bag, even in the midst of the morning-after anger.