The Airport Fiasco

         I had just come back from visiting my relatives in Seattle, Washington.

         The security lines were all clogged up, and we had just been informed that a slumber party in the airport was due for all of us.

         I was by myself.

         I was thirteen years old.

         Exhausted from spending a week with my relatives, I desired sleep for the night, but there was hardly any room on the bench I was sitting. On my left was a frail, old woman who was actually sleeping contently. I wished I could sleep like a grandma. She was sitting next to her husband, who was looking about the airport with a blank expression on his face. On my left was a young man who had his cap pulled low, tapping away on his phone.

         I knew that I would not be engaging in any conversation, either.

         With a sigh, I zipped open my suitcase, and put my backpack under my bench. I pulled out a pillow I brought along for the trip. I placed it behind my back, which was nice for awhile, but it made me sit up even straighter. Any hopes of sleep vanished.

         So, I got up and wandered about the airport with my luggage. There were some interesting shops and vendors, but I had very little money. Quickly getting tired of just touring around, I started searching for some empty benches. There were none, however, and many had deterred to sleeping on the ground. All hopes of sleeping on a bench were lost.

         Very discouraged by the recent series of events, I knew that I was forced to return to my bench. I found it after some minor searching, and was appalled at what I discovered. The elderly couple had left, and the man I had previously observed was lying flat on the bench, sleeping! He had a pillow propped up underneath his head, and his hat was resting on his face. Of all the nerve! He looked so peaceful, lying there, and I quickly envied his comfort. Something MUST be done!

         Taking out my pillow again, I set it underneath the bench. I then lay down underneath the man. Immediately I got up again. The hard, paved floor was as cold as ice! I opened up my suitcase quietly, and brought out an extra sweatshirt. I carefully placed it on the floor underneath the bench, and then laid back down. It was better than my previous experience, but it was nonetheless uncomfortable.

         Knowing that some action must be taken against such a selfish man, I got out a pencil from my backpack. I inserted it through one of the openings that lay between the planks on the bench. Softly, I began to scratch the man's back with it.

         When he stirred, I leaned up closely to the bottom of the bench, so that my face was directly underneath his ear. When I was satisfied that he was awake. I whispered, softly.

         "Run."

         The man's cap was still lying over his face, but I knew that he had heard me. He was probably wondering if he was still dreaming.

         "Run."

         This time the man removed his cap from his face, lifted his head a little, and then looked around, eyes wide.

         "Run."

         Now the man sat up straight with a white face. His feet hit the floor, and his hands clenched the bench he was sitting on. He sat for a few moments as still as a mouse.

         That was when I grabbed his ankle and screamed.

         "RUUUUUNNNN!!!"

         The man yelled, grabbed his suitcase, and took off like a bolt.

         Pleased with myself, I moved my small apartment to the top of the bench. However, I curled up in a ball so that I only occupied half of the space.

         I slept well that night.

         A certain someone didn't.