“Where are our seats? How is this organized?” Jane mumbled as she made her way into the plane.
“Oh my God, Ellie Mae, Jesus Christ. Haven’t you ever been on a plane before? We’re in Aisle 24, seats A and B. Do you remember your alphabet, or should I start singing?” Mike asked, struggling with his and Jane’s carry-on. “Here we are. Sit down.”
“I call window!” Jane hollered and dove for the seat. “Is there a movie on this flight? Shouldn’t there be overhead music or something? Ambiance to keep our moods up?”
“This isn’t a gym, weirdo. They don’t play music,” Mike said. He threw his simple black bag under his seat and then fought to stuff Jane’s pink mini suitcase into the overhead compartment. After several tries, he surrendered and decided to leave it to the poor schmuck of a flight attendant. Mike fell into the middle seat and rubbed his eyes.
“I’m going to grab another beer when the flight attendant comes around, do you want anything?”
“Nope,” Jane said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out some pills. “I’ve got Valium. Taking this plane to La La Land. You can wake me when we’re there. I’m using my complimentary blanket that's made of rough tarp and I’m passing the fuck out.”
“You’re leaving me to sit on this boring plane by myself?” Mike asked.
“You’ll be fine on your own. You can read a book or something. You like to read, right?”
Jane put a sleeping mask over her eyes and swallowed her Valium. “Nighty night.”
Mike sat and stared at the seat in front of him for a moment. Sleep was the furthest thing from his mind. There was a ton of planning to be done to prepare for the next few days. For starters he had no clue about what went into planning a wedding, so therefore, he had no idea what to expect. He vaguely knew what was involved - flowers and food - but he knew nothing of specifics and couldn't really start planning out the shoots in his mind. He whipped out his cell phone and made a quick call to the one person who could save his ass. His wife.
The phone rang twice before Dottie picked it up. The hollering of his three small girls could be heard in the background.
“Hi baby,” he said. “I’m on the flight to Ohio. Everything cool? Did the kids kill someone? Or are they still aiming to kill each other?”
“Hi babe!” she answered. “We’re just painting the table and chair set for the new baby. What’s up?”
“I need you to tell me how you planned our wedding.”
Dottie paused. “Um, this isn’t really something that can be solved in a quick chat. I guess I could send you an email about the bigger points, if you want. Hold on a sec, Liza just got blue paint in Em’s ear.”
A blond flight attendant that could have been a pin-up model was starting to making an announcement about the impending departure and how cell phones and other electronic devices needed to be turned off. Mike sunk deeper into the seat so as not to be noticed and waited for his wife to return. Suddenly a small, elderly female midget appeared at his side and stared down at him with beady brown eyes. She pointed at the seat.
“My seat,” she practically yelled at him. “My seat.”
Mike shrugged. “Sure. Your seat. Go right ahead, ma'am.”
The midget had but one black eyebrow that ran across her wrinkled forehead, making her look like a puppet. With a grunt, she threw a huge leather suitcase in Mike’s direction, smacking him in the shoulder.
“You. Under. You help.”
“What the hell?” Mike cursed under his breath.
“You help. You help,” she yelled, shooing Mike with her hands.
Dottie came back on the phone. “Hi there, love. Sorry, I just wanted to get that paint out of her ear before we had to take a trip to the hospital. So you need an email about how to plan a wedding. No worries. I’ll do that tonight after everyone’s in bed.”
The furry midget was making hand gestures again. “Help! Help! You help!”
“Look, babe, I’ve got to go,” Mike apologized. “I’m sorry, I’ve got a situation here. I’ve got to assist one of the Muppets in stowing her luggage. Oh and I’ve got to make certain Jane is still breathing after taking a shitload of Valium. Just another day.”
“Ok, I love you. I’ll get you that email.”
“Love you too.” Mike hung up and looked into the beady eyes glaring into his soul. He sighed and started struggling with the old, decrepit piece of luggage with the troll yelling out “Yes!” or “No!” the entire time.
Next to him, Jane was dreaming. James had been playing the drums when Jane first caught sight of him and despite the fact that it was nine o’clock at night and she was already four sheets to the wind, lust-at-first-sight sobered her up so quickly it was like being dunked in ice water.
He was gorgeous and everything that Jane liked in a man. His arms were muscular and bulged beneath his t-shirt as he hit the drums. He kept his hair shaved and had a sexy short beard. He kept his eyes shut for the most part during the set, as if he was part of the music. Jane grabbed one of her nearby girlfriends.
“He’s amazing. I want him.” she told her. The woman nodded slowly and said nothing. Jane looked and realized she had grabbed a complete stranger. “Oh sorry, you’re nobody I know. Don’t flirt with him.”
The woman quickly walked away and Jane headed to the front of the room near the stage, all the while keeping her eyes glued to James. She was bumping into people, spilling drinks in her wake, but never once did she stop staring at the drummer.
Without warning, he opened his eyes and returned her gaze. Jane’s heart stopped. Then the music stopped. James rose up from behind the drums and grabbed the microphone.
“I don’t have a 401K,” he said, his voice resonating across the room. Jane stopped in her tracks. “I don’t have a qualified retirement plan. I don’t have paid vacation. I have sick days, but only five of them are paid.”
Jane stood frozen in horror. Still James continued, twisting the blade in the deeper. “I don’t have long or short term disability. I have health insurance through the state. I have a checking account but no savings account. I don’t have supplemental life insurance.”
Jane felt the beginnings of a blood curdling scream start in the back of her throat. Then James brought out the big guns.
“I get paid by the hour. I get paid under the table. And I am over $7,000 in debt,” he called out to her above the heads of the silent bar patrons.
“What kind of debt?” Jane was now screeching like a crazy nutbag. “Education?” she gasped hopefully.
“No,” James answered. “Credit card debt. With very high interest rates.”
Jane put her hands up by her ears and screamed. She didn’t even notice that now, like in all of her other nightmares, she was standing in the middle of bar, naked except for a pair of grayed granny panties.
In the real world, Mike saw that Jane was moving around in her slumber but decided against waking her. Meanwhile, the furry, non-communicative gopher who had taken residence in the aisle seat had opted to take out her knitting and was occasionally whacking him with a needle.
“What the fuck did I do to deserve this?” he asked no one in particular. The midget nudged him hard with a stumpy arm. She waved a skein of yarn in front of him.
“You hold. You hold now.”
Mike sighed, took hold of the yarn, and prayed that Ohio was close by.
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