he wins

Filed under "dumb things that go on in an airport".

Frequently, I travel to Nashville with my friend and co-worker MT -- aka work husband #3 (WH#3). Because of the customer we visit there, our flights are often delayed, moved forward or otherwise jacked with, which means we fly standby on Southwest a LOT.

WH#3 is the stubborn Irish type and loves to push buttons. He is much like T in this respect and for that matter he's like all the Irish men I know. Since I have karma that apparently attracts these guys, I know quite a few. Anyway, I digress.

When we signed up to fly standby on the 5:40 yesterday, the chances were slim that either of us would get on. For the first time in a year, only one could go. He got called since he was on the list first. It was OK, I was ready to kill time until 9:30 for the next flight. But no... he refused to go. And just as adamantly, I protested that I would not go in his place. Needless to say, there was a disagreement, then an arguement -- and some bickering that ended with the thoroughly entertained and amused counter agent putting me on the plane. He won! WH#3 won! He smiled as big as I've ever seen any guy smile who just got stuck in an airport for 4 more hours. So pleased with himself that he didn't even think about the evening ahead... just because he got to "win".

As a wierd postscript, we both had the same morbid thought at the same time ... what if either plane went down? The whole thing gave me a very interesting idea for a story... maybe I'll actually write it some day.

And yes, I was exhausted and glad to go home. And guilty and frustrated that I had to leave him. And grateful. I'd tell him thank you but then he'll really know he won and we can't be having that, now can we?