Day 67: Mystery Man

Two of my cousins were getting married in Denver over Labor Day weekend. Since I didn’t want to cut my Alaska trip short, I booked a flight to Denver and left my car in Alaska. I would be in Denver for five days and it would be an opportunity to see family members while celebrating these unions.

My Uber arrived just after 4:00 am. I was running on about three hours of sleep because of the preparing and packing I had to do the night before. I talked with my driver about how Uber was temporarily removed from Anchorage because taxies were objecting, but Uber was reinstated the year prior.

When I checked into my Delta flight, they said my bag weighed 67 pounds! I told the woman behind the counter that the scale must be broken because I packed the same way I normally do for flights and it’s usually 50 pounds. She tried another scale and it also said 67 pounds. I felt justified all of the times I complained about carrying my suitcase up and down stairs constantly for the last two months.

The fee for an overweight bag was $100. I told the woman, “Wouldn’t it just be smarter for me to buy another bag at the store over there and pay for a second bag fee of $35?” She responded, “Actually, I have a suitcase that we need to get rid of in the back. You can have it. It’s missing a wheel though.”

She brought the suitcase out and it had a small slit in the back and was indeed missing a wheel. I opened my suitcase at the counter for everyone to see my underwear and started putting heavy items, like my jeans, into the smaller suitcase. I realized I was probably carrying more jeans than I normally do since I was traveling for such a long time. In addition, I was carrying my laptop bag as my carry-on, which threw off my normal packing routine.

While I finished paying for my two bags, the woman mentioned that they were overbooked by six-seven people because they normally have two early morning flights, but that day only had one, being the end of the season.

After choosing the slowest line at TSA, I walked to the counter at the gate to get my seat assignment. Delta stopped giving people a seat assignment unless they pay. I had a layover in Seattle and the woman told me she had another flight (also a layover in Seattle) that would arrive in Denver at 7:00 pm instead of 4:00 pm. I had dinner plans so I decided to pass up the other flight, even though she mentioned I would receive a gift card.

As I waited to board, I heard an announcement that they still needed someone to give up their seat. The person would receive a $400 voucher! I went back up the counter, but someone snuck in ahead of me and took the opportunity. I was kicking myself. Time used to be more valuable to me, but now that I’m no longer getting a paycheck, money is more valuable than a couple of hours. I tried to convince myself to let it go. Spending too much of my life stressing about things like this was not good for my health.

I was able to get an aisle seat, but it was the very last row where you can’t recline. I couldn’t sleep so I watched Infinity War while I was hit with butts from people waiting in line for the bathrooms. I cursed Apple once again when I realized my headphones wouldn’t fit the jack for the tv. Thankfully, they gave out free headphones for the flight.

It was a three-hour flight and I had a two-hour layover in Seattle. I couldn’t get my seat assignment until it was closer to departure, so I ate some breakfast. I got sidetracked and realized boarding was starting soon and I forgot to get my seat assignment. I walked to the counter and asked for an aisle seat. The women told me she only had middle seats left. She assigned a seat to me and I stepped aside to send some texts. A few minutes later, the woman tapped my shoulder and said, “I had to upgrade someone to Business Class, which means it opened up a seat in Comfort Plus. I put you there.” I was thrilled because Comfort Plus gives you an extra few inches of legroom.

A guy in his 20s inched near me and asked about boarding zones. It was our time to board so we headed down the tunnel. He said he was going to Denver for a wedding and I laughed, “So am I. Well two weddings actually.” The guy behind him chimed in, “I’m going to Denver for a wedding too.” We asked the names of the brides/grooms to see if we were going to the same wedding. They were both attending weddings for a Hanna, but were different weddings.

The window seat was empty and a large, tall man in his late 40s was sitting in the aisle seat. Arriving at our row, a tall man said, “I’m in the window seat.” He was so dreamy – tall, thin but fit, had a black cowboy hat on, a little bit of brown facial hair scruff, sunglass, and seemed like someone walking in from a movie. We got out of our seats so he could get to the window. The three of us standing in the aisle was comical. Aisle man was 6’5”, window man was 6’8”, and I’m 6’1”. As the window man started to go towards his seat, aisle man said, “Great, all of us in the same row.” Window man replied, “Yeah, all the big people together.”

I looked towards aisle man and said, “Did he just call me big?” Embarrassed, window man said, “I mean long, tall!” I replied, “Well, I do have hips so get over it.” The three of us laughed about how hard it is to travel when you’re tall. Thankfully, we had Comfort Plus. We each explained where we were going and I mentioned I quit my job, sold my house, and was traveling. Window man said, “Did you just go through some big life change?” I replied, “No…well, I mean, I did get divorced last year.” The men laughed and confirmed this was basically a mid-life crisis – a discovery of the self.

Window man sat there with his hat and sunglasses on, leaning with a cool swagger. I was regretting my three hours of sleep, barely any makeup, and shabby hair. We kept talking and within a few minutes, aisle man was out of the conversation.

Window man told me he was in Seattle for work and has been living in Edwards, Colorado for the last few months. Then he told me he was from the St. Louis area and was 38 years old. I couldn’t believe it. I’m also 38 and from St. Louis. We didn’t go to the same high school because we lived about 30 minutes from each other. I thought it was such a coincidence. Window man talked to me about where he’s lived (Alaska, California, Florida, and Colorado). For a few years, he lived in Malibu, about an hour from where I lived.

Window man and I kept talking, and talking, and talking. After about 30 minutes, he took off his sunglasses, and another hour later he took off his hat. His light brown hair was ear-length and he would run his hand through his hair, making it slowly fall back towards his face. His foot was propped up on the armrest in front of him and he played with his hat that was now on his lap.

I felt like I was in a romantic comedy. Maybe it’s because I had watched several recently, but this man seemed like someone straight out of those movies. He was very vague about his job so I kept thinking he was probably someone famous and I wouldn’t find out until the flight was over.

Window man told me about his father passing away 10 years ago from leukemia and how hard it was. He hasn’t talked with his brother since and had no idea where he was living. We talked about family relationships and the difficulties that come with it.

Window man and I started talking about romantic relationships and I told him about my marriage of nine years, the lies my ex told me, and the divorce. We also talked about power dynamics in relationships. I explained that even though I was successful and in a power position at work as well as most areas of my life, I don’t want to be in charge in a romantic relationship. My ex-husband was passive and never made decisions. I had to make all the decisions and do all of the planning.

Window man told me, “I’ve gotten the impression you’re an alpha woman?” I confirmed, “Yes.” He said, “I like alpha women. My girlfriend is an alpha woman. But I’ve told her that it’ll never be mistaken that I’m the man in the relationship.” We agreed that we want to be with someone who is our equal. I told him, “The thing with an alpha woman is she won’t let you be dominant in the relationship if she doesn’t trust and respect you.”

Window man told me his girlfriend is in the medical field and they have been dating for a couple of months. I was saddened to hear that he had a girlfriend. Then he said, “Who knows? Maybe she’ll break up with me in a few months.”

Window man and I talked about therapy and how helpful it has been for both of us. I explained how my therapist told me that I found my strength while hiking the John Muir Trail and the longer I stayed with Aaron, the more I lost it. She helped me to see how much he was manipulating me and how to process such a loss. Window man said, “I don’t know why people are embarrassed to talk about therapy. I’m not the same person I was 10 years ago. Going to therapy helped me by saying things out loud. I would hear myself say things to my therapist and I would think, ‘Did I just say that? I don’t want to be that person.’”

I told window man I was very excited to be taking the ferry from Alaska to Canada in a couple of weeks. He’s taken the ferry three times and recommended that I don’t bring my tent to put on the deck (which I had been planning). He told me to put my sleeping bag on one of the lounge chairs under the solarium and I’d be set.

“So you’ve been very vague about your job. What do you do exactly?” I asked. He laughed and said it was hard to explain. He’s a pilot of small planes (flew them in Alaska) and now he owns a consulting company where he helps corporations separate their planes for corporate and personal use.

We had been talking the entire three-hour flight when the plane started to land. The turbulence was very bad, causing the plane to move up and down rapidly. Feeling nauseous, I grabbed the seat in front of me and told window man, “Hold on.” He asked if it would help if he opened the window. Once he opened it, he started to explain turbulence to me to distract me. It took him five minutes to explain it and ended with, “So you see, there’s nothing to be afraid of.” I replied, “I’m not afraid. I’m about to throw up.”

I started searching for my throw-up bag and couldn’t find it. He quickly found his bag and gave it to me. I was mortified at the thought of throwing up in front of this attractive, incredibly cool man. He said, “It might help if you eat something.” I found the mini-banana I put in my purse earlier. I was struggling to get it open so window man grabbed it, turned it upside down, and squeezed it open. He said, “That’s how the monkeys do it.”

I didn’t throw up, but was still not feeling very well. We landed and were waiting for the door to open. I handed window guy my card, “In case you wanted to follow my blog.” He noticed it was my only card so he took a picture of it and gave it back. He said he might check out my video about the John Muir Trail.

We stood up to leave the plane and shook hands. But then we ended up walking together when we got off the plane. I needed to use the restroom, but wanted to keep talking. As we walked down the hall, I realized I didn’t have my neck pillow. I paused, “Shoot, I think I left my pillow on the plane.” In my head, I debated on whether I should go back or not. Window man said, “You can just buy another one.”

We arrived at the tram to take us to the other side of the terminal. I stood next to him and realized just how tall he was. I’m not used to looking up at people and it was actually making me feel dizzy. Window man asked me how long I planned on traveling and I told him the plan was for two years.

The tram arrived and we headed to the main area. I pointed towards the baggage area and asked, “Do you have baggage?” He laughed, “Oh, I got baggage. But I don’t have a bag.” I needed to pick up my bags so we said our goodbyes. He gave me a hug and said “Maybe I’ll email you.” We chatted for another minute and he hugged me again.

As I walked away, window man said, “You have a lot going for you, stop picking bad guys!” I smiled, “I’m trying!” I arrived at the baggage area and used the restroom. I looked in the mirror and noticed I had smeared mascara under my eyes and looked terrible in my old jeans.

I got my bags and waited for my aunt Lori to pick me up from the airport. I was so happy to have met that man. He helped me realize he’s the type of man I need to date. He’s smart, driven, funny, thoughtful, reflective, and a good conversationalist. I was happy I didn’t take that other flight option for a $400 credit or I wouldn’t have met him. I stood there with a smile on my face, thinking about our conversations. Then I realized…I never asked his name!

I couldn’t believe it. In all that time, I never asked for his name and he never told me. I also had no way of ever contacting him. It would be up to him to contact me if ever wanted to talk to me again. I hated the fact that it would be up to him. However, my therapist helped me realize that I need a guy who is willing to put in effort. Someone who pursues me. It’s difficult for me to sit back and wait, but I’ve realized if a man isn’t strong enough to ask me out, he’s not the man for me. I wasn’t expecting this man to ask me out, he has a girlfriend. But if he finds himself single and interested, he’ll need to be the one to ask me out.

It’s been almost five months since I met window man and I haven’t received an email.  If it’s meant to be, it will be.

Post Edited by: Mandy Strider
Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment below or send me a message with any questions!

 

Day 38: Bike Tour in Vancouver, BC

I signed up for an afternoon bike tour with Cycle Vancouver that started in downtown Vancouver. It was advised not to drive into the city because parking was around $20. I pulled up the Uber and Lyft apps, but received a notification saying they was not available in that area.

I didn’t realize how accustomed I had become to using Uber and Lyft. I looked for taxis on Yelp and called one. It was only about 6-7 miles to downtown Vancouver from where I was staying in West Vancouver, but they quoted me $25 each way. This is why I never use taxis. An Uber or Lyft would have cost me around $7-$10.

I decided to drive but was now running a little behind. Fighting downtown city traffic, I found a parking garage for $13 for the day if I parked all the way on the top – going up 8 floors.

I jogged down the stairs, paid for parking, and hit the street with about five minutes until the tour started. Rushing into the bike store slightly out of breath, I told the handsome guy who looked to be in his late 20s or early 30s that I was there for a tour. It appeared there were several groups getting ready to ride. He was friendly, smiled, and got me a bike suitable for my height, and took me outside to meet my tour guide, Ben.

Ben welcomed me to the group and we all introduced ourselves. About six of us were going on the tour. It was sunny, warm with a cool breeze, and a beautiful day. The bikes we were using were electric bikes. I’ve done a lot of bike tours in cities around the world but have never used an electric bike. Ben gave us instructions and it was pretty straight forward. We’d still peddle like normal, but the bike would assist us going up hills.

We first rode through the city towards Stanley Park. We learned more about the city, the totem poles that have been put up to remember the tribes once located there, statues, bridges, and the beach. The tour lasted several hours, with stops every 15 minutes or so to take pictures.

The tour guide, Ben, was around 5’10” with blonde hair and blue eyes, and looked like Aaron Paul (when he was younger). From the beginning of the tour, I was right behind Ben so we ended up talking a lot. We got along really well and had some fun conversations.

Ben is from Ottawa and came to Vancouver to get his film degree. After college, he spent time on film sets as part of the production team. This involved carrying heavy items around in the rain for 12-15 hours a day with relatively low pay.

Ben got tired of that so he went to work in a sound studio where he was working in an office, which was pretty boring. In April, he ran into a college friend at a bar after not seeing him for a while, who told him about doing bike tours. His friend had opened his own bike shop and asked Ben if he wanted to do tours. Ben decided being in nature daily sounded a lot better than being in an office, so he quit his job and started doing bike tours.

I told Ben that I also studied film in college so I know how hard it is, and we bonded over that. I asked Ben why Uber and Lyft aren’t available there and he said, “Places like LA roll out new things and work out the kinks as they go. In British Columbia, we wait for places like LA to work out all the kinks first, and then we’ll join.” I said, “We’ll, you’re pretty far behind on the ride-sharing opportunities”.

Ben told me he likes living in Vancouver because he’s “a sweater guy”. I laughed at that and asked what he meant. He replied, “You know, I like wearing sweaters. I don’t like wearing shorts.” He was currently wearing blue jean cut-off shorts and a t-shirt. For some reason, I pictured him wearing a cardigan and it just didn’t fit his vibe.

“Vancouver is currently in an affordability crisis with housing”, Ben described. “There is a difference between an expensive city like Los Angeles, and an affordability crisis like Vancouver. In Los Angeles, you have jobs that can support the high cost of housing. But in Vancouver, we don’t have jobs that support million dollar condos.”

Ben and I talked so much while riding, I think the others were starting to notice. It felt nice to meet someone I could easily talk to. I asked Ben how hard it was to move to Canada, being an American. He went through the list of all the ways, like being a skilled a worker for something they are in need of. Overall, it isn’t very easy and it takes years. After he listed all of the typical ways, he said, “Of course, there’s always the ‘marry a Canadian’ way”. I said, “That’s true.”

I told Ben he looked like Aaron Paul from Breaking Bad and he said he hasn’t watched that show because he’s a contrarian – a person who opposes popular opinion. Of course he is a contrarian. I always find this type of guy attractive. I told him Breaking Bad is actually my favorite show and even though it’s popular, he should watch it.

As we continued to ride, we stopped at a lake that had a few beavers, saw the hockey stadium, and passed through the beach. Towards the end of the tour, we rode through Chinatown and the Gastown, which is the current hip neighborhood that has been gentrified. We were about finished with the tour and I asked Ben how old he was. He said he was 24. What?! I thought he was around 30. Apparently, I’m terrible at guessing age.

We finished the bike tour and I used the restroom. When I came out, Ben was talking to a customer at the counter about something in French. “What?! He speaks French too! Nice”, I thought. Once he was finished, I gave Ben my card and told him it was nice meeting him. He shook my hand and said he also enjoyed meeting me. I asked for food recommendations for dinner and he told me about a sushi place up the street.

On the way to get sushi, a young woman approached me and asked if I could spare 30 seconds for her to explain the cause she was raising money for. I accepted her 30 second challenge and she did a nice job explaining she was raising money to help kids starving in Yemen and for $20/month, I could help. I told her that her speech was well done, quick, and I would help but I’m unemployed now and can’t really afford $20 a month. She said she was from Palos Verde (only about 30 minutes from I lived in California). She shook my hand, thanked me for listening, and said it was good experience for her.

After sushi, I headed to a famous ice cream shop by the water. The line wasn’t crazy long, but would take about 15 minutes. As I waited in line outside, an old man was sitting at a table and told his friend, “These guys waited 30 minutes for ice cream. Young people have that kind of time.” “Ok….”, I thought. “You’re just sitting here doing nothing, so it looks like you have plenty of time, dude.”

I enjoyed my ice cream sitting on a bench overlooking the water. The city looked beautiful as the sun set.

Since my car was parked for the day, I figured I should see more of downtown so I headed to the Gastown area. A lot of little shops were closed but restaurants and bars were hopping. I went into The Alibi Room and the wait for a table was over an hour. Thankfully, there was one seat available at the bar so I headed there. This is one of the nice things of traveling alone – I can usually sneak into the bar and avoid the wait.

After enjoying a flight of beers and some edamame, I decided to leave because the place had actually emptied out quite a bit. When I got back to my Airbnb, I went to the kitchen to get some water and ran into a guy. He looked to be in his late 20s, with brown hair, and pretty average looking. His girlfriend came and joined us when she heard us talking in the kitchen. She was around his age, with long, dark blonde hair, and a little overweight.

They had just arrived to the Airbnb and wanted to know if I knew of places to go out for nightlife. I said there likely isn’t anywhere as it was around 10:30 pm on a Tuesday night. The place I was at died down by 9:30 pm and that was in downtown. I explained we were in West Vancouver, and Uber and Lyft aren’t available there. They were shocked not to have Uber and Lyft and tried to think through their options. They also wanted to shower first so I explained by the time got anywhere, it’d be 11:30 pm, and I didn’t think they’d have any luck.

The couple was from North Carolina and they flew into Oakland, California on Friday night. They bragged that on Saturday, they explored San Francisco for eight hours and saw more than most people see in eight days. “We saw everything”, they bragged. That night, they drove to Portland (an 8-hour drive), which meant they were awake for 36 hours by the time they arrived in Portland in the late morning. I told them it was a shame they drove through Northern California at night as it’s an absolutely beautiful drive. They looked disappointed and I could see them trying to calculate how they could see it on their way back.

The day they arrived to Vancouver, they had woken up in Portland and driven four hours to Seattle, Washington. They did some sightseeing and then drove another three hours to Vancouver.

The next day, they planned on checking out Vancouver and then taking the ferry to Port Angeles, Washington. Their plan was to stay north of Olympic National Park, do some basic hiking, and then drive to the coast and stay the night. They were just booking things as they went. They had eight days to do all of this and their flight left from San Francisco.

They were generally nice people, but I was irritated by their “cram everything into eight days” mentality. Seeing four major cities, a national park, and the ocean in eight days (and covering over 1,000 miles) seemed like such a shame to me. This represented a mentality in travel that I think is spreading – quantity over quality.

People try and cram everything in just to say they’ve been there. Spending eight hours in each city is not doing the city any justice. Personally, I prefer to see fewer places but spend more time there, really getting to know the city and the people. I often see people’s profiles on dating apps state how any countries they’ve been to. I don’t count the countries or states. I’m just not into volume. I’m into great personal experiences and taking my time.

The couple didn’t know much about hiking. I explained that I had spent four days backpacking in Olympic National Park and there are bears so they are required to carry a bear can. They had no idea what a bear can was and as I described things they’d encounter, like banana slugs, they seemed terrified. I showed pictures and explained the rules for backpacking and camping. They said, “Wow, you’ve just prepared us so much more now.”

We talked until midnight so they never made it out to see the nightlife. I hoped that I had prepared them for what they were about to encounter. As I laid in bed, I was happy about my travels. I know this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity – something I worked 22 years to be able to do and enjoy. But I’ve been able to see so much, meet local people, and learn the history of places. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Post Edited By: Misty Kosek

 

Day 32: Train Ride to Portland

I had another appointment in Portland for the nasal balloon clearing, but rather than spend time in traffic and spend money on gas, I took the train. I love taking trains in Europe because they are so fun! They have giant windows to see the scenery, little restaurants, and are usually pretty comfortable. Trains are not nearly as common in the US, but I figured it must still be a fun experience. Plus, it would give me time to write on my blog.

Arriving to the train station by Uber, I got my seat assignment at the counter and headed to the train. My seat was on the aisle and the large middle-aged woman in the window seat was not happy when she realized I needed to sit down and she’d have to move all of her stuff that was occupying my seat. She huffed and puffed as she slowly started to move stuff.

This did not seem like a woman I wanted to sit next to and I had about five minutes before the train would leave, so I went back out to the counter and asked for another seat. They gave me a window seat several rows away from that woman, which was fine with me.

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Shortly after the train took off, the café opened for breakfast. The café was about six cars away from mine so I headed there, with my purse and laptop bag in tow. I ordered a breakfast sandwich and a coffee, and a long line formed behind me.

The employee who got my food was frantically getting everything together in the tiny space. While my credit card was processing, I took off the coffee cup lid in anticipation of putting cream and sugar in it. But then the employee grabbed it to put it in a little holder with my sandwich and hot coffee spilled everywhere, including on my sandwich.

Looking at the angry faces of the people waiting in line, I assured the employee she didn’t need to make me another sandwich; the plastic wrap blocked most of the coffee. She said, “Are you sure? I can make you another one.” I responded, “Not a problem. I shouldn’t have taken of the lid. I’m sorry.”

Embarrassed, I carried my little cardboard box with my items, bumping into people with my laptop bag and purse as I squeezed by them to the car with tables.

After eating my sandwich, I pulled out my laptop to start writing. I like to listen to music while I write so I reached for headphones for my iPhone and then remembered that the iPhone 8 plus doesn’t have a normal headphone jack. Curse you iPhone and your stupid headphone jack! I thought. Desperate to have some music, I used my laptop (which has a normal headphone jack) but doesn’t have a lot of music on it.

The train ride was great! The large windows showed the countryside, including passing some beautiful lakes. Just after four hours or so, we arrived in Portland. I started walking to the hostel I had stayed at the week before to see if a package was delivered there after I left.

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The heat was unbearable – 92 degrees with a real feel of 97 degrees. On the way, I decided to call my doctor to have them track the shipment. It turned out that it hadn’t even shipped. I asked them to cancel the order and stopped walking towards the hostel.

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Sidewalk Views in Portland

I still had a couple of hours to kill before my appointment, so I found a restaurant/bar called Cider Bite. It has a lot of ciders, which I love. I patiently waited for them to open at 4:00pm and walked in as soon as they opened the doors.

It was a small, narrow place. I headed towards the back, by the bar, and sat at a table while the waitress told me about the flights they offer. Sitting at the bar was another female, in her 30s. I thought, Another single female, really? You go girl. Everywhere I went, if someone was alone, it was a male. Every. Single. Time. I wondered what her story was, why she was alone.

Across from my table, a man filled out an application while another man in his late 30s was explaining the position to him. Then the man walked to the bar and started talking with the bartender/waitress about getting some things done around the place. I figured he must be the owner. There was nobody else in the place – probably because it was 4:00 pm.

I ordered a flight of ciders and a tuna sandwich. About 40 minutes later, a man showed up, kissed the woman at the bar, and sat next to her. Oh man, she wasn’t solo after all. She was just waiting for someone to arrive.

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I finished eating and asked for the bill and the owner brought the machine for me to pay. I gave him my card and we started talking, and talking, and talking some more. I told him I had been traveling and was actually staying in Seattle, but came back to Portland for a day for an appointment.

We talked about Seattle, Portland, and Los Angeles. The man talked about the droughts and how absurd it is that Las Vegas keeps growing, even though they don’t have any water. Then he bashed southern California for its water usage. I explained to him that while I agree that southern California is becoming unlivable (um, that’s why I sold my house), the state also has ridiculous policies making things worse – like not building a new reservoir in decades, even though the population has grown substantially over that same time period.

We agreed that the American dream is dying. Many places have become so unaffordable, people are working to just pay rent. He said he’s thought about selling his condo in Portland because the housing market was doing so well, but then he’d have nowhere to live. I replied, “You could live nowhere, like me.”

The man asked how I liked Portland and I told him I really liked it – it has character. Seattle felt more like a min-Los Angeles. He said he didn’t care much for California – Los Angeles has a stereotype of the “blonde bimbos” and San Francisco has a stereotype that everyone works in Tech.  Slightly offended, I said, “Yeah, everywhere has a stereotype. Take Portland for example, there’s the stereotype that everyone is a weird hippy.”

I was really enjoying our conversation but my anxiety was setting in as I didn’t know the time and was afraid I’d be late for my appointment. I didn’t want to look at the time and give the impression I wasn’t interested in talking with him. I mean, he was also pretty attractive and around my age.

Finally, I looked at my phone to see the time and realized I had about five minutes to get to my appointment, 15 minutes away. I grabbed my purse and stood up and said I needed to be somewhere. We agreed it was great talking to each other and I gave him my card.

I ordered an Uber and realized we had talked for about 40 minutes! But it was ok. That is the main reason I like traveling – meeting new people.

Thankfully I was still able to get to my appointment and the doctor was running late anyway. The student doctor took all my vitals and he was fascinated by my slow heartbeat. He asked if he could use the stethoscope to listen and I said sure. He said, “Wow, I keep questioning whether I’m even hearing it. It’s so faint.”

My train back to Seattle was leaving soon and it was the last train that evening. The student doctor said they might have to reschedule because the procedure will take some time. I pleaded with them to hurry and do it because I had come all the way from Seattle and needed to catch that train.

The doctor came in, did the procedure, and I rushed out the door to get a Lyft. The Lyft driver took a route that the GPS did not suggest and took us right through downtown. My anxiety increased with each red light we hit – which was basically every light.

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I jumped out of the Lyft, ran into the train station and the overhead announcement said, “30 seconds to last boarding on the 408 to Seattle.” I ran to the podium to check-in and get my seat assignment. As I was pulling up the email with the confirmation number, a man in his 40s, about 5’9” with dark blonde hair, raced up next to me.

The employee asked, “Are you two together?”

Man in an English accent, “Well, not yet.”

We all laughed.

Man, “Sorry, that was totally inappropriate.”

The employee found the man’s seat assignment and said, “Business Class, here you go.”

Me, “Oh, I’m coach.”

Employee, “Well, I guess it wasn’t meant to be.”

We both raced off to our trains – me in coach and him in business class. I sighed to

myself, I used to be able to afford business class.

 

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Post Edited by: Misty Kosek