Thank You, Gladys

by Rob Rosen

'Cause I'm leaving on a jet plane. I don't know when I'll be back again. Oh, babe, I hate to go.

Damn, I hate it when a song gets stuck in my head.

'Cause I'm leaving on a jet plane ...

Out! Out, damn song! Get the hell out of my head.

Tra, la, la ... I'm not gonna sing that song no more. Not gonna sing it, no I won't.

"Is something the matter, young man?" asked the lady sitting next to me. "Scared of flying?" She smiled knowingly at me and waited for a response. I guess I looked strange sitting there with my head nodding back and forth and my eyes all squinty like.

"Oh, no. Not exactly. Not of flying, anyway." She looked at me and waited for a further explanation, but none was forthcoming. Hell, even I wasn't exactly sure what I was doing or why I was doing it. Just knew I needed to be on that plane. Knew it more than I knew anything else. At least I hoped as much.

The lady smiled and went back to her book and I sat there and tried my darnedest to keep the song from playing over and over again. Of course, I wasn't completely successful. The more you try not to do something, the likelier it's going to happen anyway. Well, at least that's what I've come to find out. I did try, you know. Tried as hard as I'd ever tried before. And, no, I'm not talking about the song anymore; though it did strike me as strikingly prophetic.

All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go. I'm standin' here outside your door. I hate to wake you up to say goodbye. But the dawn is breakin', it's early morn. The taxi's waitin', he's blowin' his horn. Already I'm so lonesome I could die.

Man, what a corny piece of crap. They don't write them like that anymore, thank goodness. Who the hell talks like that, anyway?

Though, that is how I left her. Asleep. Alone in our bed. And that is just about how I felt, as I stood there thinking about what I was doing. But leaving seemed liked the best thing. For both of us. Especially for her.

Okay, maybe especially for me.

But I did warn her before we got so involved. Told her about my past and how I'd screwed things up so many times before. I suppose it was just in my nature. I had that wandering eye that so many men are afflicted with. It's genetic, I reasoned.

There's so many times I've let you down. So many times I've played around. I'll tell you now, they don't mean a thing. Every place I go, I think of you. Every song I sing, I sing for you.

Though I wish this particular song would leave me the fuck alone.

"Gum?" she asked, this time.

"Oh, sure. Thanks." Maybe the chewing would drown out the noise in my head.

"Pleasure trip or business?" she asked. Or maybe talking with her would do the trick. Worth a shot, anyway, I figured.

"I left my fiancée," I answered, straight out, and waited for a stunned silence.

"Did you cheat on her?" My turn for stunned silence. The book she was reading must have been awfully boring or she was just incredibly inquisitive.

"Oh. Why do you ask that?" I managed.

"Well, it's usually one or the other. Especially just before the marriage. Folks get scared about that time. That what you did?"

"I suppose so. Why, did your husband cheat on you before you got married? If you don't mind me asking."

"Nope. Don't mind a bit. It was me that did the cheating, though. Wanted to know what I might be missing before I signed on for the rest of my life. Seemed, at the time, like a reasonable thing to do."

"And?"

"And, I wasn't missing much. Oh sure, it was fun. And exciting. I'd never been, well, so bad before. Suppose it was best to get it out of my system. Least that's what I told myself. And my husband."

"You told him?"

"For sure. Had to. Owed him that much." Oh, to be so brave.

"And what did he say?"

"He left me."

Oh fuck. Why did I start talking to this crackpot? Now I was really depressed and the gum wasn't even any good. Damn sugarless crap.

"He left you? But I thought you called him your husband."

"Yep. Sure did. And he is. Has been for twenty years now. He left me, but he came back. Guess that's what love is all about. Forgive and forget. Better than living a life without the one you love."

I thought of my fiancée, Jenny, as this stranger's words permeated my already addled brain.

So kiss me and smile for me. Tell me that you'll wait for me. Hold me like you'll never let me go.

What would it be like to never hold her in my arms again? To never hear her laugh at my bad jokes? To never hear her sing to me, even this god-awful song? That would suck. Would suck even worse than not being able to get my sex from someone else. Would even suck worse than this song. Way worse, if that's possible.

"Um, thanks," I told the lady. "For everything."

"Sure thing." And she went back to reading her book.

The advice was better than frequent flyer miles, for sure, I told myself. Now all I had to do was get that damn song out of my head. Maybe if I sang something else.

Said he's leavin' on that midnight train to Georgia. Said he's goin' back to find the simpler place and time. I'm gonna be with him on that midnight train to Georgia. I'd rather live in his world than live without him in mine.

Maybe the nice lady sitting next to me had a point. Hell, seemed like Gladys Knight had the same point, right? Anyway, at least she had a better song.

He kept dreamin' that someday he'd be a star. But he sho' found out the hard way that dreams don't always come true. So he's pawned all his hopes and he even sold his own car. Bought a one-way ticket back to the life he once knew.

Smart man. Hopefully, I was on my way to doing the right thing as well.

And then, thirty minutes later, the plane was landing.

"Still leaving?" she asked, as she stood up to get her baggage out of the overhead bin.

"Oh, I was never leaving. I'm coming back. Sort of figured out that I was being stupid all along. Just wasn't sure until now. Thanks to you. And, well, Gladys Knight."

She looked at me with a strange expression of relief and wondering. But then she nodded her head and added, "Good for you. Now don't be an ass anymore. Okay?"

"Will do. Never gonna leave on a jet plane ever again without her."

"Good boy."

Hey, wouldn't you know it. That song is finally out of my head. Woohoo! Maybe I should start singing a new song.

Hey little sister what have you done? Hey little sister who's the only one? Hey little sister who's your superman? Hey little sister who's the one you want? Hey little sister shot gun! It's a nice day to start again. It's a nice day for a white wedding. It's a nice day to start again.

Aah, much better.

Copyright © Rob Rosen 2004