analog

#1 in a series of Short Short Stories...

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Roger Short ran furiously. He flew down the corridor, his heart pounding within his chest. His open sport coat flowed carelessly behind him, his hat flapped about nervously as he bounded around corners, nearly missing others coming in the opposite direction. Completely out of breath, his legs begging forgiveness for whatever they did to deserve this ridiculous exertion, he came to the end of his run, turning the last corner. He had not made it, after all... his timing had been fine, but the flight had been canceled due to bad weather. He looked down to the suitcase he dragged along, which had turned on its side, the wheels jutting uselessly out into the air.

Falling into the nearest chair, the breath he'd lost so many hallways ago had now caught back up to him. He briefly readjusted his hat, then cast it aside in frustration. With new purpose, he approached the airline's customer service desk. After a brief bit of apologizing on their behalf, he was offered to stay at the airport hotel overnight for free, getting out on the first flight in the morning.

"A little vacation," he thought to himself, "just for the night."

After settling into his room, he took a quick shower and retrieved a fresh change of clothes out of his suitcase. He decided to spend the evening at the bar downstairs, and left his room to do just that. "The airline's $20 food voucher ought to buy me a couple of beers," he thought. When he finally got there, he found one woman sitting alone at the bar, sipping slowly from a tall glass of something fruity-looking. She was beautiful and dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt. he loved women who could dress casually. He thought that the round stool on which she sat made her ass look flat, but quickly realized that was unavoidable while she was still sitting on it.

He took a seat just three down from hers, "a careful distance," he thought. "not too close... but close enough." He chuckled at the ridiculous nature of his proximity calculations. He ordered a beer and settled into the stool a bit. The room was a little warm, and the stool was not comfortable for him- he immediately regretted wearing nice pants and a long-sleeve shirt. The woman scooted one seat closer to him without saying a word. Intrigued, he glanced in her direction. She smiled and finally spoke.

"Finally, a guy who just orders a beer."
"Well, I like beer." he said, indicating with his bottle. He further punctuated the sentiment by taking a drink.
"I've been sitting here for about 2 hours now... I'm not a drunk, I'm just stuck here and bored out of my mind... and several guys have come by. They all sit near me, and they look at my drink and order something fancy. I don't want a guy to suck up to me, I want him to order what he drinks."

Roger was taken aback. The simple choice of ordering or not ordering a beer had made the difference in whether or not this woman spoke to him. It occurred to him that he'd not even considered ordering something fancy to ingratiate himself with her, but he thought better of pointing that out.

"I'm Roger."
"I'm Caitlyn."

They shook hands awkwardly across the expanse of the open seat between them. He pointed out that she'd already come over one seat, and so the next one was on him. She chuckled as he moved in closer, putting them next to each other. After little conversation, he learned that she was also stuck in the hotel overnight, and had been scheduled to take the exact same flight as him. Many drinks later, they decided to buy a bottle of champagne and adjourn to his room. They drank happily and enjoyed some more light conversation. They were both single, they had both come for a business trip, and they were both well-earning professionals. Alcohol and casual flirting lead to wild sex and a lengthy post-sex shower, during which time they had more sex.

The next morning, on the plane, they coerced the older woman with the seat-ticket next to him to take Caitlyn's seat, so that they could sit together. The flight back to their home town was spent talking about all the things they liked and hated. They felt like teenagers playing the standard "dating compatibility" game. Now in their early thirties, this somehow seemed childish and yet still very important. As they walked off of the plane and made their way into the terminal, he suddenly realized they were holding hands.

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(to be continued...)

- analog.

MexicanOnABike

fun read! I'd be happy if you kept up the story for another few pages.

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MexicanOnABike

any follow up on this story?

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Third shift

The story seems really forced and too quick to make the connection that they made seem real. I found her to be really pompous, assuming that whichever guy sits at the bar is thinking about her.

analog

I appreciate all the feedback, whether praise or criticism, it's all good. Thanks!

Jetée

I felt as though the story tried to tell too much, yet in the end, what was left was a flimsy ending at best.
I really liked the opening sequence and descriptions thereof.
For whatever reason, in my mind I immediately pictured loquitur's avatar.
Hopefully you will share some more of your tales of intrigue for all to praise.

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As human beings, our greatness lies not so much in being able to remake the world (that is the myth of the Atomic Age) as in being able to remake ourselves.

—Mohandas K. Gandhi