A couple of months after my last boyfriend dumped me, I flew home and foolishly (intentionally, purposefully, fully aware of the probable outcome) asked my ex to give me a ride from O’Hare to northern Indiana, where my parents could more easily pick me up. What I thought would and what you think did happen happened. We rejected the first hotel we stopped at— too expensive. It happened again when I flew home for the holidays. He had started dating someone else. I knew. I didn’t care. 6 months later, they were engaged. Now they’re married.
When I was flying from New York to DC, my flight was delayed by over 2 hours. Because I am an idiot bigmouth sometimes who never thinks anyone is paying attention to me, when they announced our new estimated time of departure (the first of three subsequent revisions), I scoffed loudly. A man in his 40s plugging in his laptop across the charging station from me asked when I thought we’d actually leave, which triggered a delay-long talk about work and travel and stupid things you do when you’re young, which for him involved doing a lot of drugs. Also he vaguely propositioned to pay me for sex, but it was a joke within the context of the conversation we were having about ‘Pretty Woman’. But still. This wouldn’t be shocking or noteworthy, except that this man revealed to me that he is married, has children, and (most importantly) is an executive at a large company you’ve all heard of.
These posts are mostly just places for me to start making connections, to start thinking about things that I sort of finish thinking about at midnight before an essay is due in some bullshit writing class that I’m taking, so this post is a place where I’m keeping track of lives I could have ruined (or at least momentarily complicated) if I’d wanted to; if I really, really put my back into it. I don’t know what any of this means yet. Or says about me. I’ll let you know.
