The Minnesota Farm Woman

I didn’t think I would have time to write a story this week. Between work, travel, reunions, and a wedding, it has been hard to find the time to write something witty, thought-provoking, or even mediocre. Writing is harder than you might think, and sometimes my own inspiration comes from the oddest things. BATHROOMS would be the perfect example. After the usual “hurry up and wait” business of travelling by air, the flight crew tempts everyone with a variety of beverages in a plane that holds 185 people and two small bathrooms. You can do the math here. They don’t let you stand and wait in the aisle anymore either, so it is every woman for herself. Even if you had a snowball’s chance in Florida of getting in, who would really want to? You can barely turn around, much less be seated. About the time you get in, the turbulence starts, and you always wonder what is happening out there. I waited. So did 125 other club- soda-with-lime sipping ladies. I waited when we got off the plane,  holding the carry on baggage. HE used the men’s room, while I eyed the 10 women in line next door. We hiked to the next one, and there were 15 in line for a 10 stall ladies’ room. The men’s room had no line, of course. We waited. And waited. Rumor from the front of the line described the same conditions down the concourse. A desparate sounding voice came from somewhere behind me: “Please, ladies, I’ve got to go now!” Poor thing is probably one who carries a water bottle with her all the time and hydrates. I would have been more sympathetic, but had three minutes to board my next flight. We rushed over to our gate, only to find out that the flight had been delayed. HE wandered off to find something to drink. Not me. I can wait as long as it takes, even if it is all the way home to Minnesota.