Airport Girl

It was my first time to go to Cebu, after 6 years, the office decided that I should go there to take care of some business at the branch. A deal was slowly slipping away, and it was surmised that I was the best person for the job to salvage it, because I can spew bullshit better than anybody else, and, well, my name sounds Korean.

It was all so urgent, the bidding was scheduled the next day and my assistant booked me last minute on Cebu Pacific Airlines. However, I had to pay for it in cash at their office, conveniently located 36 kilometers and a couple of hours of traffic from the office. I got there and took a number, not really surprised that there were about four hundred and sixty three people in front of me. An hour or so later, my number was up. I walked to the counter, did my business with them and as I prepared to leave, the lady tells me: “You have to be there two hours before the flight, sir.” Yeah, right, whatever. She must’ve thought I was on an international flight. Oh well…

Early the next morning, while sipping coffee at home, I pondered those final words. She must be kidding, right? I’ve traveled by air before, and in my experience thirty minutes was more than enough time to check in for domestic flights. Well anyway, just to be sure I left the house somewhat earlier.

I got to the airport about an hour before my flight. Some kids were lined up in front of me, seems like a field trip of some sorts. No matter, I had time to spare, I thought. I waited patiently in line, admiring the new terminal that Cebu Pacific Airlines occupied. Then came my turn at the check-in counter. Forty minutes to departure. No worries, that was until the attendant saw my electronic ticket and informed me that check-in was closed for my flight.

“What? There’s still forty minutes.”

“Yes sir, but airline policy says you should check in no later than an hour and a half prior to departure.”

“Are you serious?”

“For a while, sir.” As she calls on what seems to be her supervisor. The supervisor tells me the same thing.

“I don’t have any check-in baggage anyway. Can you just let me through?”

“You’ll have to take it up with the ticketing counter, sir.” As they both point to a table just on the exterior of the check-in area. I strode hurriedly to get this mess over with and when I got to the counter, there was a lady tugging a heavy bag on wheels who got there before I did. It was Airport Girl.

I lined up behind her as I eavesdropped on the conversation. It seems we were on the same flight and she too was barred from checking-in. I slip past her and fronted the ticket guy as well.

“I don’t have any check-in luggage, can you get me on my flight? There’s still thirty minutes.” Airport girl glances at me, my rudeness must’ve been appalling, cutting into the conversation like that, pleading my case citing our differences on the baggage situation.

“I’m sorry, sir, check-in is already closed and we can’t get into the system for that any longer.” A sudden thud reverberated in my chest hearing those words.

“So what can I do?” I asked.

“As I told her, you could book yourselves on a later flight.”

“For free?” he smiled, of course not.

“Okay, what other flights do you have?” asked Airport Girl, having enough of my rudeness and cutting in herself.

“There’s a nine o’clock and an eleven fifteen.” I glanced at my watch, a three and a half hour wait to the next flight.

“I’ll take the eleven flight.” And she hands him her credit card. I felt helpless as I thought up a good excuse to my boss for this one. He hands her back her card and prints up her new ticket. “Thank you.” She says as she goes away from the counter.

“Fine, book me on the next flight.” I said as I handed him my own card.

“Thank you, sir and we hope you enjoy your flight!” Came the reply as I took back my card and ticket. “Oh, go eff yourselves.” I whisper under my breath as I retreated outside the terminal for a cigarette break, a really long one.

Airport girl was seated on the ledge, by the ashtray. I parked my backpack a meter away from her own bag and lit up. “Excuse me, can I have a light?” Airport girl apparently gave up trying to fish out her own lighter from her luggage. I lit my cigarette before handing the lighter to her. “Thanks.”

After about twenty minutes of pondering my fate, just as the urge to light up hit me again, she beat me to the punch and asks if she could borrow my lighter a second time. So, lit up, I smile and ask her why she took the eleven o’clock instead of the nine.

“I asked my sister to bring something, I wasn’t sure she’d make it before boarding time for the nine o’clock flight.”

“Oh, where will she be coming from, anyway?”

“Las Pinas. Rush hour traffic could be quite terrible coming from that direction.”

“I know what you mean, I used to live there as well.”

“Really? Where?”

“Pilar Village. You live there as well?”

“My sister is in BF Resort Subdivision, I have an apartment in Quezon City, it’s nearer the hospital where I work.”

“You’re a doctor?”

“Nurse. But I do crash at Las Pinas sometimes. I’m taking up my masters there twice a week.”

So the conversation goes to and fro as you could imagine. Small talk, mostly. She’s a nurse, thrity three years of age, single and waiting for her ticket to the States just like all of the nurses that I know. She’s headed to Cebu City for a wedding, staying there until the weekend at some posh resort where the nuptial is happening. Yes, it’s the kind of conversation that you don’t really listen to, so I decide to check her out.

Her shoulder length hair was a straight dark brown. Behind her oversized sunglasses, her eyebags told of too many hours on the graveyard shift. Despite her obviously heavy smoking, her lips were of a peach color, and her fair complexion started to turn reddish under the now unpleasant rays of the sun. I remember she wore yellow, not my favorite color, but the way her collar framed her neck was really easy to look at.

“Hey, have you had breakfast, yet? I think there’s a doughnut shop inside.” I invited.

“I’m not really hungry, but I could use some coffee.” We vacated the ledge and walked back inside the terminal. When we got there, there was a mob around the stall as it was the only thing open in the whole terminal. We gave up figuring where the line was and strolled back outside to a new smoking area, one that was not directly under the sun.

“So…” I start.

“So?”

“I’m wondering, is the thing with doctors the same with nurses?”

“What thing?”

“I mean, I notice that doctors only date other doctors, because I guess they don’t have time for much else. So are nurses that way as well?” Small talk’s over.

“No, not really. I don’t notice it, anyway.”

“Ahh, how about yourself, were your exes nurses?”

“Doctors.” She answers, a grin on her face.

“Hahaha! So I guess I was wrong on the doctor thing?”

“Well, it is still right to some extent. Doctors do usually end up with other doctors.”

The next couple of hours flew by, and we talked about almost everything we could think of. There seems to be something about talking to strangers that opens you up all of a sudden. It’s like knowing that you could say anything because you know you were never meeting them again. I glance at my watch and it was about time to check-in.

“Hey, I have to check-in, now. I don’t want to miss two flights in one day.”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks for the lighter.”

“Don’t mention it. Maybe we’ll meet in Cebu?”

“Maybe we will.” I stood up, put my bag on my back, and as I attempted to shake her hand, she busses me, instead. I was still smiling while I checked myself in.

*****

I never met Airport Girl again. And despite the hours of talking about ourselves and everything else, the topic of exchanging numbers was never brought up. Perhaps that was the way it was supposed to be, or maybe (and most likely) I was just a pussy for not asking.