Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
ing. After a few months it got so I could usually tell within a page, sometimes a para-
graph or two—a sentence, if it began with “Once upon a time” or “Long ago and far
away”—whether the writer had the mastery and the imagination that warranted a close
reading to the end. I spent two years at
Esquire
, and I think we published one slush
story.
Of course, I recognized my own amateurism in a lot of what I read, and it became
clear to me that the last thing the world needed was another semi-okay fiction writer. So
I gave up on short stories and started working on personal essays, criticism, and, even-
tually, reported pieces. A journalist, I've sometimes said since then—glibly, but sort of
seriously—is a writer in search of something to say.
New Orleans went by in a rush. Jan and I met at the airport baggage carousel, found
a taxi, and, like a couple of kids, pretty much didn't let go of each other for thirty-six
hours, until 4:00 a.m. Sunday, when we got up after three or four hours' sleep to make
our plane. At that point we were too groggy to even hold hands, and later neither of us
could remember much about our layover breakfast with Robert, Lynne, and Jake at the
Atlanta airport, except that Jake asked Jan if she'd ever met any of the other girlfriends
I'd introduced him to.
It was all sweet, but the sweetest moment was the first. As it happens sometimes (or
always) in airports, the gate was at the opposite pole from the baggage area, and I plod-
ded through the bland corridors for what seemed like a mile before I poked my head
around a corner and there she was, sitting with one leg crossed over the other, her foot
wagging in worry or impatience. She saw me as she made an idle turn of her head and
did a double take and her eyes widened, she seemed to sob, and her face looked sud-
denly relieved and grateful.
Seeing her see me, I was deeply self-conscious. She looked girlish and compel-
ling—like someone I'd fall in love with at first sight if I'd never laid eyes on her before.
But weirdly enough, I felt as if I might seem physically strange to her. I knew I'd lost
weight. My face was thinner and my jeans were hanging from my hips, and it made me
shy. I stood there with a goofy, stubborn, terrified smile, hesitating, but Jan just ran to
me and we kissed. And as satisfied as I've been with myself these past weeks, as im-
pressed with my perseverance in solitude, my physical prowess (such as it is), mental
toughness, and emotional resilience, as proud of my self-sufficiency, in an instant I un-
derstood what I've been missing.
