"Are you excited?!"
"No."
"Are you nervous?"
"Not really. Maybe. No."
Jan and I are driving down Six Forks, top down, hair flying everywhere. It's the day before I'm leaving for St. Louis for flight attendant training. I feel nothing.
I'm not sad. I'm not nervous or stressed out. I'm not dreading it. I'm not looking forward to it. I'm just kind of...doing it. I still haven't decided to take the fact that I'm going to flight attendant training for six weeks seriously. This is a problem I have. If I don't acknowledge it, it's not actually happening.
***
Well, it happened.
Jan dropped me off at RDU, and I got on the plane. I flew to Pittsburgh, switched planes, and was en route to St. Louis when the girl next to me goes, "You goin for flight attendant training?"
I've been awake since 4 am, and I'm not in the mood to talk.
"I am, are you?"
"Yeah, I'm excited! My husband was freaking out though. He was fine until the airport, then all of a sudden the water works started. I'm from Kernersville, that was a long drive and he be crying the whole way!"
I'm not rested enough for this, and then I walk straight into the trap.
"Oh really, how long have you been married?"
"Well, I'm gonna miss our one year anniversary while I'm at training..."
DAMMIT.
"That's why he's freakin out. Longest flight I've ever been on, went to Hawaii to get married. $3,500, all inclusive. Flight, hotel, venue, all I got to pay for was the dress! And the food...and the drinks. I took a Xanax on that plane ride. 10 hours! Don't worry, I got a prescription. Panic attacks run in my family, hereditary or something. But yeah, took a Xanax and started ordering drinks - it was a morning flight, too!"
I am officially in hell. Trapped in a small space, talking to a complete stranger about intimate life experiences and prescription drug use. Did I mention I had been awake since 4 am?
"Oh, yikes. Yeah, 10 hours is a long time."
"I carried my dress on, wasn't that worried about it. I mean, I'm only wearing it once! And it was my second wedding. I'm so much older than you! How old are you?"
"Uh, 23."
"OMG! I'm so much older than you! I'm 32. Got a 13 year old, he lives down at Ocean Isle. He surfs, fishes. Lives down there with his daddy, he was in the military. We was married for 11 years, but he was in the military. Became a drill sergeant. I just couldn't deal. When we separated, he put a GPS on my car. Crazy. My husband now wouldn't do nothing like that. He's freaking out. Wouldn't stop cryin on the way here. He's texting me asking me to come home. Saying he'll pay for the flight. He'll drive to come get me."
This is how I met my roommate, Jyl.
***
The shuttle pulls up to the Comfort Inn Airport and Convention Center. If you plan on visiting St. Louis ever, don't stay at the Comfort Inn Airport and Convention Center.
We roll all our bags in, and before even getting to the front desk, a lady with an incredibly tight ponytail barks, "You can't check in til 12!"
It's 9:45 am. Welcome to the Midwest.
I take this time to call Jan and check out the surroundings. The hallway smells like stale air. Stale air that has had brief contact with a rotten banana. I make my way outside, and see a Steak n Shake, Waffle House and Church's Chicken. I decide I'm going to gain about 30 pounds over the next 6 weeks. I also decided to not walk around outside alone after 8 pm. I return to the "comfort" of the lobby and try to study my airport codes, but am joined by Jyl.
"This place is a shithole. I don't know where you stay in Raleigh, but I mean, seriously? We can't check in for another 3 hours?"
I'm wondering if she just miscounted, or actually doesn't know how to count.
"Like, really? It smells like animal feces in here," she continues. "God knows what the rooms look like. I called my husband and he told me to come home. I mean, there's a Church's Chicken. That's not a good sign. I swear, the projects are next door. I was outside on the phone, and a jigaboo just rolled up. I think he works here, but seriously."
You can't say these things out loud. I don't know what a "jigaboo" is, but I'm pretty sure you can't say that out loud. To someone YOU DONT KNOW.
"Ha, yeah. It does smell weird. I don't know, it's not too bad. There's a pool?" My head is going to explode, I can't handle this right now.
***
The aggressive concierge hands me my key, and says "You gotta use your card to make the elevator work. Passwords 9600."
I'm supposed to know what both of these mean, so I nod.
Jyl and I take the elevator up to the 5th floor, and when the doors open we're hit with an even more intense smell of stale trash. Home sweet home.
The room is alright. Two full size beds, a desk, flat screen TV. I'm actually impressed. Jyl, on the other hand, is not.
"Like, is this a joke. A joke? I'm scared to sit on that bed."
At that exact moment, I sit down on the bed. Nothing happens. It's pretty comfortable.
Jyl drops her bag and walks to the window.
"Oh my god. We have a view of the SLUMS. I can't believe this. Is this what they think of their new hires, putting them up in a shithole hotel like this? Like, that's all they think we deserve? Are we going to be staying in places like this when we're out flying?!"
Shocked silence. Did she think this was some sort of a vacation? We're here for training, not as part of some all-inclusive resort package.
I start to unpack my "business causal" attire, and Jyl says she's not unpacking anything, she doesn't want her clothes to smell like horse shit.
Fine, more hangers for me.
***
I let Jyl borrow my computer, and decided to take a nap. I'm out within seconds...did I mention I had been awake since 4 am?
I wake up and she's on the phone. of course. she's whispering, but once she sees my eyes flutter open, she's back to full volume. no chance to try and pretend to still be asleep. I roll out of bed and walk to the bathroom.
"I cannot believe you are not wearing shoes," says Jyl. Well believe it, girlfriend. Believe it.
I eavesdrop on her conversation from the bathroom, and gather from context clues like, "You're beating a dead horse, Mother!" and "I'm thirty-fucking-two, Mother, I can make decisions for myself," that Jyl's speaking with her mom. She seems to be explaining to her Mother that, no matter what she says, she's still leaving.
"I've got a ticket pulled up right now, Mother, and it's only $174. You don't understand. I am NOT staying here. It's across the street from the projects."
Her Mother speaks, and from what I can figure, she's told her daughter to get a bucket of chicken and think about it.
"Mother! I am NOT going to Church's Chicken. I am not trying to die over chicken. I didn't bring my gun. I am not going over there."
Ok, this is a little dramatic. I get in the shower.
***
So Jyl has purchased a ticket home. Her husband has offered up his credit card number, and she's booking a shuttle to take her to the airport at 5:30 am. She's out. I'm just trying to figure out what I can do to make her stop talking.
"I mean, I'm a registered esthetician. I can work at a salon. This is great money, but I'm not staying at no rinky-dink hotels like this. Nuh uh, I just can't do that. I used to work for Clinique, for five years, I quit cause they cut my pay in half. I worked at Dick's selling guns too, I have one in my bedside table at home. I don't feel safe here without my gun, but you can't bring those on planes."
I want to say that it's because of psychos like her that you can't bring guns on planes. I want to tell her to chill the fuck out, I'm trying to focus on the season finale of The Voice. I want to discuss how beautiful Adam Levine is, not "rinky-dink" hotels. I want to say it's not that bad, that things could be worse. But I don't. I nod and smile and offer random "uh huhs."
"Are you staying? Like are you going to stay here?"
"Well, yeah," I say, caught off guard.
Of course I'm going to stay here, I've only been here for 8 hours. I'm going to go to class and see after that. I'm going to give it a chance.
Jyl looks at me like I'm rabid.
***
I woke up this morning and the left half of the room was empty. There are no signs of Jyl, except the peanut butter crackers she left me. That was sweet.
I started questioning what I was doing. Should I have stayed here? Should I purchase a gun? Am I an idiot for staying here? Does the hotel really smell like horse shit? Would it be bad to go to Church's Chicken alone?
Let the adventure begin.