Home for the Holidays: Mistletoe Mix-Up and High School Reunion Blues
Alternatively: Home for the Humbug: Mistletoe Mischief in Midlife
This meme, so applicable for so many things.
I am continuing on with the subscription donation project. For December and January, the organization is the Radical Monarchs. If you are new here (welcome!) or need a refresher, you can always find more details of the project on my About page. Also, if you want to be a matching donor, let me know.
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Programming Note: Today’s newsletter will be my last newsletter for 2023. We’re going into the holidays and I plan to Rip Van Winkle-it until the new year. You know, fall asleep under a tree, grow a beard, and try again in 2024. And try again I will.
Oh, and one more note: Reminder that for my entire NYC decade-aversary year (until 8/31/2024), paid subscriptions are 10% off. And you’ll have that price FOREVER. A paid subscription is a great gift for you and, you know what? It is a great gift for my unemployed ass as well.
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At the end of last week’s newsletter, I mentioned that this week’s newsletter might be a bunch of end-of-the-year roundup lists.
I have a better idea.
It’s the time of year for so many things: city sidewalks, silver and gold, ribbons and bows, Rudolph, drunk relatives, Heat Miser, silly holiday graphic tees, hot toddys, slipping on the ice…you get the picture. It is also the time of year for all the single big city folx to consider giving it all up to move to the small towns where we grew up to inevitably fall in love with the owner of a tree farm. Or the firefighter who got our Dad’s cat out of the tree. Or that asshole from the bar who turns out to be a lovable asshole.
As I’ve spent the last week getting everything in order so I can travel to Washington for the holidays, I have realized that it’s undeniable that I am, in fact, a single big city folk heading to my small hometown to hang out with my family for a few weeks. This sounds suspiciously like the set-up for something.
Now, my parents love a Hallmark holiday romcom. At 8pm, every Monday (or whatever) they check to see if a new one has been released. My Dad, especially, loves all romcoms in general. He is almost always asking me when I will write a romcom. As a writer, romcoms aren’t my thing. Well, they haven’t been in the past.
But, there is something in the air. That crisp, cool, calm, bright holiday air. On Tuesday, I will fly through that air. It’s getting harder and harder to ignore the set-up.
So, I’m going to lean in. I’m going to write the opening for my very own Hallmark-style holiday romcom. (No one tell my Dad. I want plausible deniability.) Not the whole thing. Just the opening. I don’t want to take this too far.
First, a title. I have not used ChatGPT at all as yet but I thought for a romcom thought experiment, an AI bot would probably have a good idea for a title. It had a couple good ideas actually (see the titles of this newsletter). For the one I settled on, I did change one word but otherwise, it’s pretty perfect.
Without further adieu:
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Jingle Bell Avoidance: Hometown High School Hijinks in Oxfords
Samantha hates to not have enough time to “relax” at the airport. So, when we meet our mid-30s big city heroine, that is exactly what she is doing: “relaxing” at the airport. What that actually means is that she’s at the airport a good 90 minutes before boarding even begins and will be wandering around anxiously for that whole time hoping that nothing delays her flight. Every time she thinks about a delayed flight she knocks on wood. Well, she knocks on her forehead.
The airport is all hustle and bustle with holiday travelers. Even on a Tuesday morning, it is busy. Our heroine deftly dodges confused tourists and runaway roller bags, used to weaving in and out of people on the big city streets. The air of the scene is jovial but we can tell Samantha does not have the same attitude. She has had a hard year. She’s really just dragging herself to the finish line by her bloodied fingers.
Turns out, she didn’t have anything to worry about. The plane boards on time. She gate checks her bag because she is one of the last to board. Even still, she gets to her row before any of her seatmates. As take off time comes closer and closer, the seats next to her are still empty. “It can’t be,” she thinks. “There’s no way there will be empty seats next to me.” She’s right, in the end. Half-right. A person slips into the aisle seat just before the plane door closes. But there is no one in the middle seat between them. They smile politely at each other, both happy to have a little bit more room to stretch on this six hour flight.
It’s all so uneventful which is the very best thing it can be. Samantha doesn’t make it a habit to chat with anyone on planes, least of all any seatmates because, you know, you can’t escape them until well after the plane lands. She is avoiding the conversation here as well, not that the other person in her row is pushing it. But they do keep looking at her. Occasionally, they catch each other’s eyes and do a weird half smile.
The plane lands at the destination, everyone files out as orderly as can be expected of flying these days. Samantha’s seatmate lets her into the aisle ahead of them. She walks away quickly.
She has one more flight before she makes it to her hometown with a three hour layover. So, she takes her time in this airport, one she likes a lot better than most others. She stops for a leisurely meal. She moseys from Hudson News to Hudson News. She makes her way to her gate about an hour before her next flight. All the while, she thinks she keeps getting glimpses of the seatmate from her first flight.
Everything about her second flight is also uneventful. As everyone lines up for an on-time boarding she looks around, telling herself she is not looking for her seatmate but also kind of hoping she sees them, no matter how unlikely it is that they are heading to the same destination. She boards, takes her seat, and settles in for a final quick flight.
This flight lands and all passengers stand to get off. When she is able to get out of her row and into the aisle, she hears a little whistle from somewhere behind her. Samantha turns around and sees her seatmate. She turns back around and thinks, “No, it can’t be.” When she turns back around to check, she doesn’t see them. It seems as though they have disappeared. If they were ever there at all.
Samantha’s parents come fetch her from the airport. It’s a happy reunion but, because her year was so difficult, she still has an air of melancholy. For the next week or so, leading up to Christmas, the activities are much the same as they always are. She volunteers to do far too much baking and wrap any presents laying around. There is some sort of holiday movie or music always in the background. She’s always the last one in the house to go to bed. The whole time, she mostly stays inside. While her parents don’t live in the exact town she grew up in, they live close enough that there is a not insignificant possibility of running into people she went to high school with. She does not want to run into anyone she went to high school with.
Finally, a trip outside is needed, both for supplies and for sanity. A day for Mom and her. They wander through the downtown core, stopping in shops here and there. To be honest, they mostly end up shopping for themselves. Shopping has always been the great equalizer between the two of them. After a pretty successful day out and about, they walk through the main shopping center to the parking garage. On their way out, Samantha slows to listen to the holiday piano music being played live from a grand piano in the middle of the walkway. As she speeds up to catch her Mom, she notices…that’s the seatmate from her first flight. They’re here!
In Samantha’s excitement, she runs smack dab into someone else trying to get to the elevators. She says, “Sorry” and tries to quickly get out of there. But before she can leave, they say, “Samantha, is that you??”
Shit.
“Yes, hi. Hi. Nice to see you…you.”
She has no idea what this person’s name is. This is her worst nightmare. This is why she tries to stay inside when she is at her parents’. This hasn’t happened for years and now it’s happening and all she wants to do is catch up with her Mom and drive away from this situation.
“Yeah! Nice to see you too. It’s been so long. What have you been up to? Last I heard, you lived in the big city.”
“I do, yes. That I do.”
They stare at each other. Samantha knows whoever this is is waiting for her to ask a question about their life or give them some little hint that she knows who they are. She’s drawing a blank. Where is the “eject” button?
“Oh, there you are. You ready to go?”
Samantha turns around to see her seatmate there. She’s confused at first but from the glint in their eye, she picks up what is happening really quickly. “Yes, almost ready. I was just catching up with…”
“Oh, of course. Hi, I’m Charlie. And you are…?”
“Hi, I’m Rachel. Samantha and I went to high school together.”
Charlie. Rachel. Okay okay. She’s caught up now.
“Sure. Samantha has talked a lot about you actually.”
“She has? Wow, that’s so nice.”
Wow, Charlie is a pro.
“It’s nice to meet you in person.”
Rachel smiles widely at Samantha as if to say, “Wow, this person is hot. Good job.” Samantha looks at Charlie with both a “thank you” and “I’m sorry.” in her eyes. Charlie is having a great time.
After a lull: “So, Sam, ready to go?”
“Yes! Yes. I am. Rachel, you’ll have to excuse us. It’s time we be going.”
“I have another mall to play piano at.”
“You’re very good.” Rachel says, that wide smile never falling from her face. “Hopefully we run into each other again soon, Samantha.”
Rachel takes her cue to go, looking back once to see Samantha and Charlie vaguely waving in her direction. When she’s fully out of sight, Samantha breathes a sigh of relief and turns to Charlie.
“How did you know?”
“You looked like a deer in headlights. I figured you’d never get out of there alive if someone didn’t do something.”
“Normally my Mom would save me from something like that but I’m not sure where she got off to.”
Charlie looks around briefly and points to a woman looking through calendars at a kiosk. “That her?”
“Yes, that is her. She loves a calendar. Especially one with pictures of the big city.”
“Cute.”
“Well…Charlie…I should be going now. It was nice…thank you for, uh, jumping in back there.”
“My pleasure. Maybe we’ll see each other around again…Samantha.”
“I would like that. …I mean, with any luck, we will.”
“Oh, what’s your favorite Christmas song?”
Samantha smiles. It’s a question no one has asked her in a long time. “Christmas Time is Here.”
Charlie smiles this time. They shake hands, lingering a little too long. Charlie then saunters back over to the grand piano.
Samantha’s Mom walks up with a big old bag from the calendar store.
“How many calendars did you buy?”
“They’re gifts.”
“Sure, Mom.”
Samantha and her Mom head to the elevator for the parking garage. As they walk away, Samantha hears the first notes of Christmas Time is Here.
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Okay, I have to stop now. I feel like my Dad will catch on cosmically. And I don’t want to truly fall head over heels in this imaginary situation I’ve just created.
Unless…someone knows someone at Hallmark? In which case, I’LL KEEP GOING.
A Merry Happy to you and yours. I’ll be back in your inbox on January 7, 2024.
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