Sir...Sir...Please Stop Chasing the Pigeons!

She shifted anxiously in her tiny airplane seat, aching from head to toe, desperately wanting to get up and stretch her legs. However, the "Fasten Your Seat Belt or the Stewardess will Humiliate you in front of Everyone" light was on, and she could feel the craft descending at the same rate her stomach felt like it was floating in an alternate universe. She squinted across the isle to see if she could catch a peek of the city that should be breaking through the clouds at any moment, but it seemed everyone around her was able to sleep on a plane and had their windows shut. What was she doing, meeting new people while traveling by herself for the first time...was he really going to be there? Was she really about to meet him?

Defeated, she slumped back on her sit and sighed impatiently. How long had it been since she had been in that airport? Almost 8 years...and the last memories she had there weren't the best ones. Her parents had just split up and she was being shipped back home with her mom. Just then the teenager sitting next to her decided to sort of snore his way into a panic attack, making her jump and get ready for impending doom. She stared at him wide eyed, with her hand on her chest making sure her heart had gone back to regular rhythm...and he look at her with sleepy apologetic eyes. "Sorry, I snore loud.", he said groggily but with a beautiful wide-spread smile that made his cheeks dimple slightly. "It's okay, just making sure you don't turn into a werewolf or something...", she said, not helping having to smile right back into his dark green eyes. He blushed and a small polite conversation ensued. He asked her what she was listening to, and was delight to know she was watching one of his favorite movies. That opened to a bit deeper conversation, as deep as a 25 yr old woman and an 17 yr old young man can have. His name was Malakhay ("NOT Malachy", he had enforced) and he was on his way to Canada for summer with his dad. He didn't really get along with him, they had been close when he was a child but since the divorce, conversations had been awkward between the two of them. She smiled sadly and simply answered, "I understand, don't worry, it passes." He looked at her almost about to dive into that subject, but simply nodded. He asked what her plans were, and gave her a very tight hug when she said today was her birthday.

Without knowing time had passed and they were roughly bumping down the speedway. Malakhay was nice enough to open his window and let her take in the ever colorless Newark, NJ scenery in. She could practically smell the humid contaminated air, that while it made others cringe, it spelled home to her. As soon as that bell went off, it was like Black Friday trying to get off that plane. She grabbed her backpack and shoved her way to the front of the rows and grabbed her guitar case so fast you'd think she had somewhere to be...oh wait, she did. As she headed down the bustling airport, she felt someone tug her hair and when she turned Malakhay was beaming at her and screaming "Have a nice trip! Don't lose your guitar!" They waved at each other and went separate ways. Where was she going? Ah, baggage claim. Was he really there? Her stomach turned into several uncomfortable knots, at the same time she was being yelled at to get out of the way by a rude puertorican employee with a bad Jersey accent. Instead of intimidating her, she felt alive again. She was amongst her crowd. She yelled back, "IM MOVING, FUGGIN A" in her suddenly remembered east coast accent. More confident than she had felt in ages, she made her way down the escalators and saw Baggage Claim 3 peek out at her. He would be in the little cafe/hobo corner next to Carrousel 6. As she wobbled off the escalator with her heavy guitar case and the backpack threatening to make her fall back, she passed Carrousel 4. A pang of nostalgia and sadness hit her, and she could practically visualize her picking up her bags there in 1999. She saw herself as a scared kid in a new country, with a suitcase full of memories and a worried father pushing her almost dead mother in a wheelchair. She almost saw her mom's pale frightened expression, not knowing if the doctors in this country could save her...and she saw herself again, trying to make her parents laugh and pretending she wasn't traumatized with the sudden move. Suddenly, she bumped into something and it brought her back to present time. That was then, this is now. She was back on her mission as soon as she apologized to the nice jamaican man she almost ran over with her luggage.

Carrousel 5...6! She was there. Was he? She quickly scanned the tables and unmistakably picked out the unlikely, unseen, sticking-out-like-a-sore-thumb hero that awaited her. She walked faster now and he simply smiled. Dropping her things on the chair next to him, she quickly dove in for a quick peck and a hug, feeling at home and forgetting this was, in fact, a pretty big deal. Everything flowed as it should've, as things that just are. They hadn't just met each other for the first time, they'd re-united after being separated in a past life. She was delighted, he seemed charmed. They had at least an hour or two (damned time difference), and for once she could be sarcastic, cynical and politically incorrect without being looked at like she stepped on someone's kitty. He followed her train of thought, they were geeks united, much was left unspoken but not misunderstood. They had that connection, where just by looking at each other jokes and sentences were finished. Sitting outside on a bench, the just looked at each other and two things were almost palpable: a) neither of them could believe they were sitting across each other, something often dreamed of but never really planned and b) they both wanted her to "accidentally" miss that plane to her final destination and spend of week of uninterrupted geek glee. Alas, in between checking out some girl's short shorts and discussing electronic cigarrettes, he reminded her that it was about that time. They both made their way up to the gates, and sort of just looked at each other sadly. There wasn't enough time for long good-byes, nor did she liked them. After several long hugs and respective 'i love yous' and 'call me laters', she turned around and got on the line, waited a few seconds and when she turned around he wasn't there anymore. She pictured him making his way back to a cab, umbrella under one arm, back to his apt alone and felt increadible sadness in her chest. Her mourning got cut short as she was pushed like cattle through the security gates, and had to wait - again - for them to swipe her guitar to make sure it wasn't a bomb. Ha! Her...a terrorist.

She walked quickly to her gate, which was already boarding and made her way to her seat. Soon she would meet a new batch of people, but would the same connection be there? She was sleepy, so she leaned her head back and as soon as she closed her eyes...she could picture her super anti-hero leaning against a grimy cement column at Newark Airport, puffing on his electric cigar and she saw the way he glared at her when she called him Bender. She relived those short hours over and over in her head until she dozed off.

Her life had already been forever altered after meeting him online, but a few hugs and hours of face to face conversation would be treasured in her heart until the day came when they would stroll Central Park discussing Gaiman's ghouls and unseen Firefly episodes.

"Yup", said the 33rd President of the United States. - The Graveyard Book, by Neil Gaiman