Maudie at PokerWorks

It was born out of a session of intercourse mid-June. “Let’s do it” was the only motivation required. It ran contrary to my usual modus operandi which is one of care, consideration, detailed analysis, planning, budgeting, and thorough research. Which, come to think of it, is probably why I remain single with only a couple of fur-balls to keep my toes warm at night…

But, I digress. Within twenty minutes while on the chatty-box with friend Gracie, we’d booked a Labor Day weekend trek to Philadelphia and Atlantic City. I marked it on my calendar and then let it slip quietly to the back of my mind.

In the meantime, Okie-Vegas and another planned trip edged the Labor Day trip further and further to the rear. It became something like that surprise at the back of the pantry - that last piece of Halloween candy you stumble upon while looking for the can of green-beans. “I forgot I had that. Cool beans.” er.. “Chocolate.”

As the trip drew near, I began to savor the anticipation. Work troubles had taken their toll which transformed this trip into a longed for oasis in the midst of a miserable desert of tension, disappointment and petty bureaucracy.

I was worried, though. Which isn’t abnormal. I always have pre-trip worries - my usual round of paranoia of things going wrong. This time, however, my paranoia wasn’t just that.

The evening before departure, Gracie was to drive in to the airport and stay at a hotel near there for an early flight out Friday morning. I was expecting a call Thursday evening to confirm the meet-up the next day and to, well, girlie-chat, fer sure.

I got the call as expected, but it’s purpose was not. “I don’t think I can get on the plane tomorrow,” was what I heard. “I’m having trouble breathing…”

She stated she was turning around and driving straight to the hospital. I told her to take care of herself - that was of utmost importance - and to not be concerned about missing the trip. Get to the hospital.

We hung up and I entered full worry mode. I didn’t sleep a wink before it was time for me to head to the airport. I considered canceling - it wasn’t going to be the same without my pal - but, then again, there were Philly friends we were to meet up with and I was looking forward to that, too.

Throughout the night I received a few updates via text from Gracie. While it was a still a mystery as to the trouble, she reported it wasn’t life threatening but that she was remaining in the hospital for observation and further tests.

I left the house at the crack of dark and headed to the airport. My excitement for the trip had waned a bit - I was already missing my friend. I felt bad for her, too, because I knew how much she had looked forward to the trip as well - but, I remained optimistic. We’d be able to take another run at it at some future date, I was sure. However, at the airport as my bag click-clacked across the floor behind me, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was doing the right thing.

I’m not a big believer in omens, but I naturally thought of those stories of folks who “just had a feeling” and escaped a fiery crash because they didn’t get on the plane. So, I wondered - was Gracie’s problem an omen? Was she sensing something? Was the plane was going to crash? Was Philadelphia going to have a disaster? Was Atlantic City going to slip into the Atlantic?

My concern wasn’t helped when, after pushing back from the gate, the pilot announced a slight delay due to a weight distribution problem. “It’s a computer thing - just waiting for confirmation…” That delay turned the page to the next chapter in the saga. The butterfly flapped it’s wings and set in motion a series of mishaps that ultimately had me in agony and BG in a brief panic

This entry was posted on Wednesday, September 5th, 2007 at 10:18 pm and is filed under Uncategorized.