Once upon a time I had to go on a pointless business trip. Actually, they make me do that a lot. And the only thing worse than the utter frustration I experience on pointless trips is when bad shit happens on those trips.
Like a couple of years ago when someone creepy jumped on the hotel elevator just before the doors closed and then followed me when I got off at the 15th floor. And when I stopped walking, he stopped walking. And when I started walking again, he started walking again.
So I turned around and looked him right smack in the eyeballs and said, all authoritative-like, "Do you need help with something?" And then he mumbled and fidgeted so I spun around and got back on the elevator and finger-tap-danced on the "hurry up, close the fucking doors!" button until I escaped with my shaking body intact.
And like last week when I felt like a walking crap factory while having to host a stupid "party" (which I put in quotation marks because it really was just a chance for a bunch of people to get some free lunch) and walk around chit-chatting with people I mostly can't match their name to their face onaccounta I only deal with them by phone all year long.
I get home from the airport that evening and I go to pull my iPad out of my suitcase and it's not there. So, like any normal human being in that situation, I start looking in each of the three zipper pockets of my bag approximately 200 times per pocket, chanting, "This is bad. This is bad. This is bad." I can feel the rumbling semi truck start to four-wheel over the boulders in the pit of my stomach. One side of my brain is yelling, "Fu
ck fuck fuck this can't be happening! It's not that old! Do you realize what that thing cost?!"
while the other side is doing its Lamaze breathing and trying to be all Zen and saying, in its most controlled and calm voice, "You must stay calm. The best thing we can do is go on with our daily routine."
After filling out the lost and found form on the airline's website, I chose to lean into the calm. While others around me said, "Oh, you're screwed." and "Somebody just got a free iPad!" and "No way will you ever see it again," I chose to believe my loyal companion would make its way back to me. Because, really, what other choice did I have? I could - and did - panic for a while, but the truth was I really couldn't do anything about it.
Well, dear reader(s), last night I got the call from the airline. My iPad went on a little vacation without me, but it was back and waiting patiently at the airport for its ride home.
