bright lights to back roads
Yesterday I was sitting in a cafe drinking seven dollar oat milk latte listening to the people next to me talking about Jimmy Choo’s, Gucci, Prada and their friend Kendall who’s a model for Victoria Secret; today I sit in a town with one coffee shop, which also connects to the one and only gas station within fifty miles, drinking Folgers instant coffee that I payed ninety-nine cents for listening to the waitress who knows everyones name, and the girlfriends behind me talking about the deal on potatoes at Red Apple, and how Ricky and Martha’s new house that used to be Kent and Cheryl’s but they broke up and it’s quite the town gossip.
Also, as a side note, I don’t try to make a habit out of listening to peoples conversations, but sometimes you just get intrigued and the moment gets away from you—I mean wouldn’t you want to know about the two five pound bags of potatoes for three dollars?
My day to day in this job goes from one drastic to another. Yesterday, I sat in Times Square in my rental car, looking at the flashing lights in front of me in complete and utter confusion as to why I was here? How in the world where Poulsbo, Washington is a place did I, Virginia May Hankins, end up as a flight attendant running these insane errands in New York and running around the world for a living? Driving around downtown New York—Manhattan, Times Square, Bleeker St. and even Astoria grabbing different requests by our passengers. I spent the day rushing to get done in time before my flight with 13 passengers, looking forward to my next layover day that wasn’t even in sight yet, but also hoping I could stay in this enchanting city a little bit longer, as I always do, no matter how many times I come.
Another side note, I don't believe that drivers in New York go through the same drivers manual as the rest of the country when we get our license--and if they do, it's completely out the drivers side window along with a middle finger in the air as they drive straight through a red light.
Today I sit in a small town in Colorado that the map can hardly find, a trip cancelled, drinking instant coffee, with not one thing to do for fifty miles, but there is beauty around me in a whole different way than any other place I’ve been. I find this in every single place I go. It may be the most outlandish, not exciting place—but it’s a place I didn’t know existed…and there’s such a marvelous beauty in that. Going to places you didn’t think was there, wouldn’t have a reason to go, but you’re here and it’s wonderful because it makes me feel the world in it’s entirety. Each place holds these lives, stories, generations, that we know nothing about.
I used to have this idea of how my life would go, and everyone around me for that matter, that we would hit a certain age and your game, life, would start over. That everyone in your life was just there for your life, playing out their parts and that's as far as the world went—like one elaborate play. Mind you—I was seven when I very quickly realized that I would be turning eight and would never be seven again—when my parents had to have “the talk” with me. Now, this talk was a little different than the ones that are running through your head, flashbacks perhaps to “your talk” with your parents. Mine was a very serious discussion about having to grow up, that I wasn’t gonna get a second chance, and my life wouldn’t just start over like pressing rewind on a VHS tape.
My thoughts and perception of life were shattered. I couldn’t wrap my head around this unbelievable truth that they were trying to convince me of. To tell you the truth, for years after this, I still believed in my perception of life. That I would get to wake up one day, start all over, and make better decisions than the last time. As I sit here, a very recently year older, as a twenty four year old I still think about what it would be like if I could rewind, what would I do differently, what would I change if I could.
Most days the truth is, I wish I could go back to the beginning and change every single thing…but then days like yesterday and today come where my life is this strange version of a love story with my own life that I don’t think I could trade for anything. It’s the days like today, watching a coffee shop full of friends in a small town, that I realize the importance each day, each place, each person, and each moment. It all adds up to this radical love story called your life. Mine has taken me a while to say those four little words, but, I love my life. My completely unpredictable, lacking structure, barely sleeping, overly caffeinating daily, puppy loving, big to little city hopping, messy life.