Beverly

I met Beverly in the bathroom at Boston International Airport .  It was around dinner time and as ever I had arrived at the airport hours before take-off, a habit picked up from my mum in childhood that has remained my most loyal life companion. 

Standing at the wash basin looking at herself in the mirror Beverly turned her head from side to side liking what she saw. 

“Mmmmmhmmm” she said to her reflection, “66 on Friday an’ still pretty!”

I asked her what kept her young. She seemed surprised that someone else was in the room with her and paused a moment, narrowing her eyes as she looked at me. 

“Well it’s the attitude that’s important, isn’t it,” she said, putting on a little more lip gloss before turning to face me “ And as my mother said to me, you gotta be sexy until you in the casket!”

Dressed in baggy jeans and a sweatshirt I felt the inverse of sexy but nodded along in agreement with her.  

“Absolutely!”

Pointing her lip gloss wand at me she continued,  “ Kids these days don’t want to make the effort. Everyone looks the same.” 

Pursing my lips in critical agreement I added my own two cents to her theory, cementing the obvious that we were just two old birds disapproving of today's youth in a neon-lit airport bathroom. 

Happy Birthdays given for that coming Friday I left and made my way to dinner with my sister.  A woman entered the restaurant halfway through and sat at a nearby table.  We paid no attention to her until her level of complaining climbed over our own decibels and we were forced to cringe our way through two rounds of complaining and food being sent back to the kitchen. 

“I hope she isn’t on our flight!” Whispered my sister.

The plane was empty when we boarded, free seats everywhere.  We could have had whole rows to ourselves but squashed in next to each other, as sisters do. Seat belts fastened, window views explored, we began the movie option scrolling while we waited. Suddenly from up front, we saw coming into focus, the woman from the restaurant walking up the aisle. We looked sideways at each other, watching her move closer and closer until bingo she sat down right behind us.  Within moments the woman next to her, and us by proximity, became privy to her life problems along with whatever was irking her about the plane.  We even heard about a husband at home and mouthed to each other in confusion, “A husband?!” A flight attendant was eventually called over for some complaints to be dealt with at which point she was asked if she would like to move up to the front of the plane to the business section. That was a tough moment for us.  As serial people pleasers, her persistent complaining had triggered every nerve in our bodies. Good girl social faux pas were bombarding our comfort zones with self-imposed societal ideals of how one should be jumping over each other to be heard. But ultimately she ended up being the winner, right? She got a free meal and upgrade, while we slogged it out in coach. This could suggest a complete lack of self-awareness or worse she does know but doesn’t care. She’s looking after numero uno without a thought as to how it makes other people feel. I often wish I could be that person, that level of conviction is a mountaintop I gawp up at from my valley of, “But what will they think of me.”  But then perhaps it is a rather lonely existence up on that summit? While we all managed to get from A to B, her perhaps more comfortably, we had made connections and fun memories along the way, a nod to the idea that it is the experiences we fill our days with, and with whom, that makes for an enriching life. Maybe we are the gold medalists after all? That said an upgrade would have been nice, while waving back at my sister still cooped up in coach would have been a classic addition to the stories we get to tell.