I got a text at 6:22 AM from a friend on her way back from Spain. Her connecting flight got rescheduled to arrive after midnight and she asked if I could “scoop her up” from the airport. Delightful language from a charming lady who always brightened my day the moment I entered her presence upon another one of our walks.
She moved away while back and even after not knowing her long, she sent me a message saying, “You’re like an old friend.” I felt the same — until that night. Then again, I don’t feel the same way about quite a few people who actually are old friends.
But who knows, perhaps she’ll have the guts to do what they didn’t:
I was already worn down from a colleague complaining at every turn as she clings to her old ways without even understanding the new. Like all of America anymore — she doesn’t allow the conversation to breathe — and it’s increasingly rare to find anyone who does.
In my condition, maybe I should have backed out on going to get her, but I’m old-fashioned when it comes to my word and many other things. A friend asked for my help and I wanted to be there for her. It was as simple as that — until it got complicated. I would have gladly gotten her an Uber and stayed in bed instead (or just given her the money to get one herself if she’s running short on funds).
I don’t know why she didn’t just get an Uber in the first place, but I didn’t ask and I wasn’t about to analyze it.
The night was wearing on me and even after a nap, I knew there was no way I could drive. Surely, I can’t be the first person to get an Uber to the airport to pick up someone. However unusual, I’d think that being there is what matters most. Trouble began to brew the moment I was dropped off at Terminal D (as it closes at 8:00). Why her flight was set to arrive there after midnight, I do not know. I made a mistake by forgetting to check for any changes. Turns out she’s at Terminal A — and as a bonus, the shuttle train doesn’t run that late.
Not for a second I did I concern myself with the added burden this was on me — all I thought about was getting to her up as quickly as possible so she could get home to get some sleep after a long trip. She had no such notion of consideration — as the second she found out I took an Uber, this unfamiliar approach didn’t compute and was now a matter for debate. While I’m rushing through this seemingly never-ending tunnel, I’m getting politely hassled about my status and concerns about her lack of sleep and starting work so early.
Hold the phone!
You go off globetrotting for weeks on some pilgrimage and return in a window with no margin for error — and it’s my fault you’re losing precious minutes of rest? I’m not disrespecting her journey — she is, and she clearly left some lessons behind. And with all that grounding in the grass, I would have thought you’d found some grace.
But no, at issue is my mistake in forgetting to check for updates on the Terminal. And my blunder for failing to factor for the possibility that the shuttle doesn’t run at that hour. And the nerve of my oddball ways of spending $80 for a roundtrip Uber to be there for my friend because I said I would. And how I should have told her this and that — so that others waiting in the wings could come to the rescue. Perhaps I didn’t get that impression at 6:22 AM on the day of your return.
Forgive me, I was a bit foggy & fatigued from being treated like shit for weeks — only to show up for a friend who forgot her manners when coming back to a country that lost them long ago.
Had I driven, I’d still be at the wrong gate. Granted, I would have been able to return to my car and driven to Terminal A. So, I could have saved an entire 10 minutes had I driven instead. And I should have confirmed the gate — a slip-up no matter how you slice it. But had the train been running, I would have been there in a jiffy. From a lifetime of practice: Reflecting on what I should have done or could have done better is just second nature to me. But nowhere to be found in my friend or this country of chronic complainers — was taking any responsibility for her own actions.
Ya know, the poor planning that put her in that position.
As an international traveler, she should damn well know better. On top of that, her worldliness should find its way into how she rolls with obstacles. I wouldn’t care if I’d just come from New Zealand, had barely slept in days, was starving, and starting a new job with no sleep: There’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that I’d be griping about how my friend chose to come “scoop me up” and how I should have done this and “can we do that?” I didn’t know exactly where I was in this dungeon of a tunnel with nobody around, but I could reasonably conclude we’d connect in 15 minutes at most.
You can’t sit tight for just a little longer (after just flying over an ocean)?
Even if were half past dead, my senses would still be alive enough to know that a friend spent a good chunk of change so as to not to inconvenience me. And however I might feel about their goofy way of getting here, my friend came through. Maybe I’d choose someone more reliable next time: Who will remember to check for changes and come early in case the train’s not running and whatnot. And maybe I’ll look back upon my own decisions and realize that starting a new job just hours after returning from an overseas flight is not smart move (even if everything goes perfectly).
But whatever would be running through my mind — I’d know that now is not the time to lay a guilt-trip on my friend over his flaws to absolve me of my own.
Not now, not ever!
Is there any chance you might be avail to scoop me up and take me to my bro’s. Whether you can or can’t, thank you, and I appreciate you 🙏🏼💫
Well, it damn sure didn’t feel like it that night.
By the way: That colleague complaining at every turn — we managed to turn it all around and now we’re better than ever. A couple days before Christmas, I sent out an email with a list of concerns (including acknowledging my own mistakes) — and offering up ideas for how to improve our processes. When my colleague came back from being on medical leave about a month later — she found that her job had changed (and she took offense).
At which point my 2-month nightmare began. What was changing was not a reflection on her, but she took it that way. And with additional changes that just kept coming — she didn’t handle it well. But little by little — she handled it (which is a helluva lot more than I can say about most of America).
And now we’re well on our way to a well-oiled machine (thanks to her input and management’s as well). As usual, my ideas were made better by the involvement of others. We could do that for an entire country — if only people were willing to listen.
on that note
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains . . .
And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence
Fools, said I, you do not know
Silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you
But my words, like silent raindrops fell
And echoed in the wells of silence
One Voice Became Two 