Exactly ten days ago, on July the 4th, 2011, our nations Independence Day, I stood in line to get on a plane. My hair was up, in a soft French twist, accenting the sharp angels of my cheekbones as I held my head titled slightly upward. Around my neck was tied a silk, floral-printed scarf, with a delicate sheen that caught the sunlight beaming through the large tinted windows of Raleigh-Durham International Airport, Terminal 2. I brought up my hand smoothly, without haste, and adjusted the vintage cat-eye sunglasses sliding slowly down my nose. My “Teal We Meet Again” nails seemed to compliment my rouged cheeks, bright scarf, and tortoise-shell rims easily and completely, but without obvious preconception. And, with the same stroke of my hand, I followed the soft edge of the scarf around my neck and tightened its small knot slowly, slightly, hardly – almost, not at all.
My black patent hand bag, hanging freely from its long strap, tucked into the crook of my bent left arm, tapped lightly against my leg as I shifted my weight from heel to heel, as not to appear, or become, stiff. The firmly pressed hem of my jersey knit dress swayed ever so slightly, as if a hummingbird had flown past and, by the nature of its forever-beating wings, created the tiniest gust of wind. As the flight attendant reached out her pale, clammy hand to take my boarding pass, I took seven steps forward. The sound of my stilettos on the cold, faux marble floor rang through Terminal 2, not unlike wedding bells sounding through the quiet countryside on a Sunday afternoon.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven...
I do not know if anyone stopped, or looked, or even glanced in my direction, because I never looked back. After the fidgety flight attendant quickly ripped my ticket, I lifted my chin even more slightly, and boarded my one-way ride to New York City.
Of course, in reality, I was actually wearing jeans, a t-shirt, comfy flats, and had two huge carry-ons stuffed with everything that spilled out of my checked bags when I got to the airport. But still. If I weren't moving all of my possessions to another state by myself via air, the above situation is the damn straight truth.