Three-Minute Writing Assignment

So many romantic comedies have the scene where one lead is rushing through the airport, trying to catch up with the romantic interest before he/she leaves forever. Well, I wasn't in an airport, but I remember that feeling. I was running through downtown Atlanta, through the lobby of the Marriott Marquis and up an escalator that had stopped working the night before. My pulse was pounding, my throat was tight, and I'm sure my face must've been four shades of red, but I didn't care. I was too mad at myself for not getting up earlier.

It was at a conference I'd been attending each Labor Day weekend for the past several years. I was single and quite content, and I flirted shamelessly - isn't that one of the perks? It was the same as it had been each year. I'd keep in touch via email, and then at the conference I always had fun catching up with the cute guys from years past - although I never flirted with those who'd been 'bagged.'

I'd forgotten to get contact information this time. And it didn't really matter - I had the phone number for one of his friends; I'm sure I COULD have gotten his number. And I'd see him again next year. And it wasn't like we were going to do more than email - we lived like 600 miles apart.

But for some reason as I jammed clothes into my bags and dragged them down to checkout and then dashed out the door of my hotel, I knew that this mattered. I'd promised to meet him for a quick lunch before catching my flight, but said "If I don't make it by noon, it means I'm not coming. I won't have time to get to the airport."

It was 12:03 when I entered the Marriott lobby, and I still had three flights to go, and the escalator was out.

Images thanks to http://www.earthclassmail.com and http://www.flickr.com/photos/studio1-one/