Homeward Bound, Alone ... Penny Sue here. I’m sitting in the Delta Sky Club on Concourse A of Atlanta’s Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport waiting for my flight to Daytona Beach. Leigh is going to pick me up. I like the Delta Sky Club because they have free drinks, which is the reason I came two hours early. I intend to take full advantage of the perk. I’m sipping an extra hot Bloody Mary that matches my mood. Considering the amount of Tabasco I added, I suspect steam is billowing from my ears.
My day started on a sour note that was a carryover from the night before. At dinner Rich announced that he needed to stay another week to get Hazel situated in a senior residential community. Understand, we’d already been in Atlanta for nine days while he escorted his former mother-in-law to doctors’ appointments for tests. All of the results hadn’t come in and Rich thought he should be there for Hazel in the event of bad news. It was a very kind gesture on his part, but I had shopped and visited as much as I could stand and was ready to go home. In a moment of generosity typical of a Leo, I agreed to let Rich use my Jaguar while I flew home.
Well, in the middle of the night my generosity evaporated and the spiteful astrological aspect that Ruthie said I had slipped out. I remembered Nana’s comment that my relationship with Rich would face a rocky road, which brought up thoughts of my three ex-husbands and every sneaky, rotten thing they’d ever done. With all of that thinking, I was hopping mad by morning. As soon as Rich left, I packed as fast as possible and headed to the airport. It didn’t bring me any relief.
My mood zipped from gray to black at airport security. My expensive French push-up, underwire bra set off the metal detector, and I was escorted to a cubicle to be patted down by a hefty bleached blonde with yellow teeth and a black mustache. She spent far too much time feeling my boobs and kneading my hips and thighs. The only thing that kept me from giving the heifer a swift kick to her lady parts was the knowledge that such an act would likely lead to a strip search.
So you can see why I was madder than a hornet and ready for a drink when I arrived at the Delta Sky Club. The Bloody Mary did assuage my anger, so I decided to have another and truly relax. Just as I was replacing the top on the Tabasco at the bar, a familiar male voice hissed in my ear. “Pen-nny Sue-e, what an unpleasant surprise. It’s been a long time.”
Not long enough! It was Sydney, my second husband who dumped me for his male assistant. I stifled the urge to scream, calmly unscrewed the hot sauce cap and added a few more drops to my drink. Then I whipped around, slinging my oversized Louis Vuitton purse to my shoulder, which just happened to catch the slime ball in his family jewels. He doubled over and yelped. I patted him on the shoulder and drawled in my honey dripping, Scarlett O’Hara voice, “Sydney, I know you’re happy to see me, but you really don’t have to bow. You’re embarrassing me.”
“Embarrassing you?” he mumbled, his voice an octave higher. Eyes shooting darts, he backed toward the exit hunched in pain. I flashed my most fetching smile, sashayed to my table and sipped the Bloody Mary, chuckling. Louis the Great had come through for me once again. —Penny Sue
