You have a flight at 2:35 PM today but you cheated on your husband last night with a guy who's going to get a little icky when you try to leave for the airport.
"I just can't believe that we shared this night together and now I might never see you again," he'll say from the bed. He called down to the desk last night while you were asleep and asked for a late checkout, apparently knowing how much trouble he has saying goodbye.
You'll stop your packing and ask, "Are you crying?"
"NO!" he'll shout, opening the gates on a torrent of cackling sobs. Last night in the bar he seemed so withdrawn and steely. You had to do most of the work to get him upstairs, just the way you like it. You honestly expected him to sneak out in the middle of the night after. But then he pulled your hair from in front of your face and asked, "Isn't this magical?" You knew then that he'd be hanging around until morning so you pretended to sleep. He must have stroked your hair for forty minutes.
"I went through your purse and looked at your license," he'll say.
"We said no names," tell him. "No contact. One night and we're a memory."
He'll crawl to the edge of the bed and kneel there while he talks. "I know how I feel. I know, based on what's in my heart, based on what blossomed between us last night, that I will do whatever it takes to find you after you walk out that door. I looked at your license to make it easier on me. I was just hastening the inevitable. I will come for you."
Take a pillow to his face and slam him back down on the bed with it, holding the pillow over his mouth and nose but keeping the sides folded up so he can hear you.
"Listen to me my very mushy friend. No one knows I was here last night. I can continue to take your breath without leaving a mark and you will die. Or I can allow you to breathe again, with the promise that if I ever so much as accidentally see your face, either I will kill you or I will pay someone to do it. But if our acquaintance with each other does not end when I walk out that door to catch my plane and fly home to my husband and beautiful baby girl, our next rendezvous will be the day you die. If you can't stay away from me, tell me now and you won't breathe again. Slap the bed twice if you want to live."
His arms will stop flailing long enough to pound the bed in two distinct movements. You'll release the pillow and continue packing while he strains to breathe again. You won't say goodbye when you leave.
At the airport, you'll miss your plane and you'll be forced to wait five hours for the next one. This means you'll be there when he arrives for his plane. He'll see you and try to look away and move faster to his gate, but you'll catch his eye just in time. You can't let him get on that plane, or else you'll have to sneak on with him and kill him either in the air or when he lands. Either way, it would extend your trip at least into tomorrow. You're going to have to follow him to his gate and wait for him to use the bathroom, where you can strangle him and leave his body in a stall. A promise is a promise.
Happy Late For The Plane Day!
