About a week ago, Wilma, my mother-in-law, suggested I fill out a firm online to be considered for a volunteer position at the big airport as a greeter, er, Ambassador.
I believe her motives are pure and godly. See, she’s a greeter there for the past year. And you know that she and I have so much fun together. Why, there was the time we visited a casket factory run by Benedictine monks showroom with a backstory convicted about her (then) non-existent cancer. There was the time she and I almost got kicked out of a seniors beauty pageant because we had cocktails and yelled “fix!” when our chosen contestant lost. Yes, it’s always a good time when we get together.
Why, you might ask, would a guy with a decent job, an young family, and a busy life want to take a volunteer job at an airport? I’m pretty sure I’d spend my weekly shift holding onto a plastered smile while directing tourists to the nearest bathroom and politely informing them that JFK did not actually die at this airport.
The simple answer is that this whole situation would be a treasure trove of writing material! I’d do it all for you, my three readers.
Because. I. Care.
Also, they’d give me a free Stetson and those things are worth a few hundred bucks. Oh and did I mention that I’d occasionally get to take a tour of aircraft like the A380? I’ve been fascinated with airports ever since I was five and my older sister took me to Newark Airport to pick up our dad who was returning from a business trip. Pretty sure she actually left her car running at the curb while we sauntered in to the terminal and walked right to his gate. Times have changed.
That brings me to the real real reason I want this job. The closest Dunkin Donuts to me is at that damn airport, post-security! For four years I’ve been wondering how to get my coffee and breakfast sandwich without driving thirty miles. “Make it light and sweet, ma’am,” I’d say with a smile while tipping my Stetson. “Yee haa! Daddy’s got his coffee again.” I think Texans talk like that.
Anyway I haven’t even gotten the application yet so it’s not a done deal. Come to think of it, what if they don’t like me? Crap I don’t know that I could handle that kind of rejection. Last year I applied for three jobs that I didn’t get. “You mean you’re not giving me this job that pays literally nothing? You do know this is an airport, right?”
But if I do get lucky and land this gig (pun intended) I can only imagine the fun the two of us will find ourselves in…
More to come.