Read an Excerpt
FLYING WITH EYES CLOSED
By A.O. NORRIS AuthorHouse
Copyright © 2014 A.O. Norris
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4918-5153-1
CHAPTER 1
For a good cup of coffee in
Raleigh, North Carolina
May 6th, 2010
The alarm blares.
*Wake up.* *Wake up.*
The sun is peeking
through the curtains
and into my eyes.
What time is it?
One in the afternoon?
I have three hours
before I have to be
on the plane
and at work.
I love late show times.
I hate the hangovers
they usually bring.
I rise from my coffin
of a bed
and toss on
my white tee-shirt
from yesterday.
Dirty jeans
I've worn for the last
three days of the trip.
Stupid white sunglasses
I found on the plane.
I put on my sandals,
shuffle my feet
out of the hotel room
(Key in the back pocket),
and down the hall
like a man on a mission.
That mission was the same today
as it was yesterday.
The same as it will
more than likely
be tomorrow.
The mission:
find
some
coffee.
Without it,
I'm dead to the world.
I'm blinded by the afternoon sun
as I leave our hotel
devoid of any fashion sense.
The glasses do nothing
to protect my eyes.
What do I care?
I'm not likely
to run into anyone
in Raleigh I know
with the exception of
my fellow flighties
or pilots.
They'll be out themselves
looking for restaurants,
book stores,
Wal-marts ...
Our hotel used to be
in the middle of nowhere,
down a winding road,
surrounded by forest.
The rooms were large and nice,
but considering
we got in to the hotel
at eleven in the morning
and didn't leave
until four
the next afternoon,
it left little to do
apart from sleeping
the time away.
The next overnight we have
will surely be
only nine hours,
so I can forgive myself
if I lay around all day
when the opportunity
is there.
The new hotel we stay at
doesn't have as many
nice amenities as we'd like,
but it's within walking distance
of the Duke campus,
the bars,
and the dangers
of a long overnight
somewhere decent.
I'm hung over.
I only have myself to blame,
but it eases the pain
to blame John instead.
Whatever, he's a good guy
and it'd be downright rude
to refuse a free beer
or six
from him.
He's how all pilots should be.
We get a deal at Charlie's pub anyway
since the owner is currently dating
one of our flight attendants.
Where can I find
a good cup of coffee?
I can be sneaky about it
if I don't want to pay
for it.
Find an oil changing center,
maybe an office building,
something of the sort
with a lobby
or a waiting area.
Walk in,
and stand around
for a few moments
as if I'm waiting
for someone
or something ...
maybe check my watch
and cell phone.
Then casually stroll
over to the free coffee stand
and pour myself a cup.
Make eye contact
and smile
at the receptionist
as I do so.
But wait—what's this?
Only powdered cream?
You cheap bastards
couldn't spring
for the tiny cups of milk?
The problem
with the powder
is that it twists my intestines,
gives me stomach pains,
and ultimately
makes me gassy.
And a gassy flight attendant
is not
a happy flight attendant.
So what's it going to be today?
Cheap route for a free cup?
Or a happily owned
local joint-
diner, coffee house,
or maybe kiosk in a super market ...
the hell with it.
I get paid tomorrow.
I'm treating myself
to a cup today.
It will make the difference
between a bad day
and a good day.
The last thing I'd do
is settle for the coffee
in the hotel room.
That stuff
tastes like mud.
Mud flavored coffee
is the worse.
And I happen to know
for a fact
those coffee pots
haven't been cleaned
in ten thousand years.
The only thing dirtier
than a hotel coffee pot
is an airplane coffee pot.
One good thing
about the coffee makers
in the rooms
is that they sometimes
come with a decent
coffee cup.
And if I like it enough,
it's mine.
"Hello, front desk,
how may I help you?"
"Hi, sorry to bother you,
but it seems that house keeping
didn't bring me any new
coffee cups
while cleaning my room ..."
"Oh, we're so sorry,
we'll have someone
send one up right away."
Suckers.
One stylish,
new coffee mug
on the way.
It's only karma
when the cup breaks
in my suitcase
the next day.
The phone rings
in my pocket
as I make my way
into town.
Damn it,
I bet it's scheduling.
I can see it now:
"Hi, is this Charles?
This is Katie in scheduling.
We've added another
two days to your trip,
with six legs a day.
Enjoy your weekend
spent in boring hotels
while passing blurs of faces,
early morning show times,
long days, and best of all,
nowhere to find
a good cup of coffee."
I almost dread
looking at the phone.
It could be scheduling,
but it's not.
My heart
is brought to life faster
than the rest of my dead,
coffee-less body
to hear Corazon's voice
on the other end.
"Good morning
my little Monito!
How are you today?
What's the time difference
between there and home?
You know you called me
drunk last night,
and I couldn't stop laughing!
I hope you're
enjoying your trip ..."
The frivolous banter
we make
between each other
as I pass through
the town
is enough
to make the world around me
become more alive
than it really is.
I hang up
from my happy
little conversation
as I enter the empty
coffee shop.
"Hi, how are you today?"
Smiles the cute girl
behind the counter.
"Hung over.
Can I have a medium
cup of coffee?"
She laughs
at my stupid joke
that harbors truth
within it
and I exchange
my hard-earned two dollars
for coffee.
She points to the table behind me
when I inquire
as to where I can find
cream and sugar.
I place a napkin
on the table
and my lid on the napkin
and smile with delight
as I look down.
Ah yes!
The liquid creamer!
Victory for Chuck!
I come to the conclusion
that today
is going to be a good day
as I make my concoction:
two creams,
three sugars,
a stir stick inside,
and the lid back on.
I wave goodbye to Mrs.
-I'm-working-at-the-coffee-joint-to-pay-for-college
as I make my way
out the door,
back through town,
up the hill,
and into my hotel.
I return to my cave
of a room
and swing open
the curtains
to let the day in.
I slowly drink my coffee
as I pull on my uniform
and get ready for work.
I take one last look
around the room
to make sure
I haven't forgotten anything.
I roll my suitcase down
to the lobby.
John is sitting
on a couch there
and smiles
when he sees me.
"Good morning man!"
He says
with a hangover-free voice
"Did you know
that when Chuck Norris
does a push up,
he doesn't push himself up,
he pushes the earth down?"
We both chuckle
as the phone
in my pocket rings.
His eyes widen
as an "Uh-oh."
escapes his lips.
I look at the phone
with a smile
on my face.
"It's crew scheduling."
I say.
"So what
are you smiling about?"
he asks.
"... today
is going to be
a good day."
I reply,
taking my last
sip of coffee
from my cup.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from FLYING WITH EYES CLOSED by A.O. NORRIS. Copyright © 2014 A.O. Norris. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse.
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