
Last Call
She was there when I needed someone the most. She was there on that awful stain of a 517 Thursday. A shitty day, full of shitty airplanes, tacked on to the end of another shitty week. Maybe I was just grouchy; maybe I was just manstruating my way through another shift of maniac, Mittened madness. Maybe I was still hungover from the night before; maybe it was an indecipherable combination of reasons spawning all the suck. I just knew that I needed to tap the fuck out for a second. I needed to catch my breath. And to realign my head into a better place. Because I was honestly about thirty seconds away from jumping headfirst into a rotating jet engine. Figuratively, of course. I’d never …
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