I love airports. Always have. I spend a lot of time around them, and not only for work purposes. I travel a lot, both on business and on pleasure, so I am in and out of airports a frequently. I am a person who can deal with airports well. Not everyone can. That's why I wasn't too surprised to see a couple at the San Francisco airport who were having problems.

I had actually noticed them the first time at the airport in Oklahoma City. It had been apparent to me then that neither of them had ever been around an airport before. They were obviously not well traveled, and had problems with the most basic things at the airport. It was hard not to laugh, but I managed not to. A few others didn't.

They were both young. Seventeen or eighteen in my estimation. The guy was a redneck, or at least a redneck wanna-be. He was dressed in starched blue jeans with the obvious outline of a can of (probably...) Skoal in the back pocket, a truckers wallet with a chain on it, a starched multi-colored Brooks and Dunn cowboy shirt with silver metal collar tips, fake ostrich boots with silver metal tips, a silver belt buckle about the size of a standard dinner plate, and of course, the pre-requisite cowboy hat with a braided metal hatband. He also had on a heavy gold chain around his neck (probably also fake...), a huge class ring on one hand, and what appeared to be a brand new wedding ring on the other.

The girl with him appeared to be younger than him. I don't know that she was, but she gave me that impression. She also had on what appeared to be a brand new wedding ring. The jewelry industry suggests four months’ salary is the right amount to spend for a wedding and engagement ring. Using that as a basis, this guy must be making about three hundred bucks a year. I'm no jewelry expert by anybody's definition, but there is a reason that "cheap" and 'inexpensive" are two different words. I can recognize cheap when I see it, and this girl's ring was cheap. The guy had probably spent more on the cowboy outfit he was wearing than he had on her ring. None of my business, though. Just an observation.

My general impression was that they were newlyweds, and that they were likely heading out on their first trip together, maybe even on their honeymoon. I was almost certain that they had grown up in or around a small, rural town, and that neither of them had been on a plane before...maybe never even been to a city the size of Oklahoma City before. I would learn later on that I was indeed correct on all my assumptions, but I'm getting way ahead of myself here.I breezed through airport security as I usually do, and found a seat on a bench a short way down the concourse to watch the cowboy come through security. I had some time before my flight. I knew it was going to be interesting when the security guy glanced up and saw them in line and kind of shook his head slightly and sighed under his breath. He had picked up the phone and called for reinforcements before the couple ever even got to the head of the line.

The guy let the girl go first, and she actually made it through mostly okay. The bags she had fit through the sizer without much problem, but she had to go through the metal detector twice because she forgot to take the sunglasses off her head the first time through. Then the fun began.

When the bags he had would not fit through the sizer, they made him call a skycap and check them. He was not a happy camper about that. I watched him go through the metal detector four times and fail each time. Each time he took off something else or pulled some other metal out of someplace. The girl was a little bit frustrated, but the guy was downright irate. I really wanted to stay and watch, but I had to get to the gate to catch my own flight, which had already been announced as boarding.

I got on the plane, found my seat, and settled in for the long flight to San Francisco. This trip was a pleasure trip for me. Nothing better to do on a long weekend. I had actually booked my trip well in advance and had my hotel room already reserved and paid for. I had used frequent flier miles for the plane ticket, the hotel, and the rental car I had waiting. See? I told you I flew a lot.

Anyway, I was actually fortunate that I had a place to stay, as there was a huge convention in San Francisco that weekend, and everything within reasonable driving distance of the city was booked solid. Even the rental car places were booked solid. Since I had reserved well in advance and had pre-paid everything with my miles, I was all set for a weekend in San Francisco.

The girl was really sort of cute. She had the potential to be quite pretty, but that potential was not even remotely fulfilled. Her hair was naturally brunette, but had a lot of highlights in it from being in the sun. It was obvious the highlights were natural and had not been added artificially. Her hair was pulled back in a scrunchie, but seemed to be about shoulder length had it been let down. Her eyes were a deep brown, and she had some cheap white sunglasses perched on top of her head. For some reason, she was wearing a feed store gimmee cap.

She was wearing blue denim overalls that seemed to me to be a little too big for her. She had a t-shirt on under them, and was wearing cowboy boots. She had a bag in each hand, as well as a huge purse slung over her shoulder. She had the plane tickets for the both of them in the front pocket of her overalls. She was walking a few steps behind the guy, which gave me the impression that she was unsure about what was going on and what to do, and that she had decided to let him handle things.

The guy let the girl go first, and she actually made it through mostly okay. The bags she had fit through the sizer without much problem, but she had to go through the metal detector twice because she forgot to take the sunglasses off her head the first time through. Then the fun began.

When the bags he had would not fit through the sizer, they made him call a skycap and check them. He was not a happy camper about that. I watched him go through the metal detector four times and fail each time. Each time he took off something else or pulled some other metal out of someplace. The girl was a little bit frustrated, but the guy was downright irate. I really wanted to stay and watch, but I had to get to the gate to catch my own flight, which had already been announced as boarding.

I got on the plane, found my seat, and settled in for the long flight to San Francisco. This trip was a pleasure trip for me. Nothing better to do on a long weekend. I had actually booked my trip well in advance and had my hotel room already reserved and paid for. I had used frequent flier miles for the plane ticket, the hotel, and the rental car I had waiting. See? I told you I flew a lot.

Anyway, I was actually fortunate that I had a place to stay, as there was a huge convention in San Francisco that weekend, and everything within reasonable driving distance of the city was booked solid. Even the rental car places were booked solid. Since I had reserved well in advance and had pre-paid everything with my miles, I was all set for a weekend in San Francisco.

I was actually glad there was a convention there. I knew from past experiences that large cities with large conventions in them were prime hunting grounds for no strings attached one-night stands. For some reason, when women get far away from home they tend to let their hair down. Usually no one in the city knows them, and there is no chance of getting caught by their spouse or significant other. Add in free cocktail hour after a long day of convention meetings, followed by a night on the town sightseeing, and, well, the chances of an overnight fling with a conventioneer are good.

My thoughts were snapped back to the here and now when one of the flight attendants made an announcement on the PA saying that the flight would be delayed for a couple of minutes. She didn't say why, but the reason became obvious shortly. I glanced up and saw the couple from the security area coming down the aisle. The guy's shirt was unbuttoned, his shirt tail was out, and he had his boots in his hand. His other hand was full of all sorts of stuff...things like metal collar tabs, a can of Skoal with a metal lid, and a bunch of other things I couldn't recognize. He was not a happy camper. He wasn't carrying any baggage. He brushed on past the seat where I was, heading toward the back of the plane.

The girl was several steps behind him. She still had her two bags and large purse. She didn't seem to be nearly as upset as the guy had been. I think she was just glad to have gotten on the plane. She actually glanced down at me as she passed by and smiled. I guess she recognized me from the security area. I smiled as she went on by.

Their seats were several rows behind me, and it took them a minute or two of opening all the overhead bins to find a place to put the two bags and the purse the girl had. They eventually found space in an overhead bin a long way from where their seats were. Surprisingly, that was not the end of their problems.

For some reason, the seats they had been assigned were not together. In fact, they were on the same side of the airplane, but several rows apart. The guy started to argue with the flight attendant, about it, but the plane was already late leaving the gate, so she wouldn't discuss it with him. She told him that they would try to work out a way to move them once the airplane was in the air. He accepted that, but not graciously. When they finally got settled, the plane pushed back.

I didn't hear anything from them during the flight. I don't know if the flight attendant moved them once we got airborne or not. Actually, I didn't even care. While it had been fun to watch them with their struggles for a while, I had actually grown tired of it. Sort of like watching a Three Stooges marathon. After a while, it becomes too stupid and too predictable to watch any longer. Yeah, they are fun to watch once in a while, but it doesn't take much to hit the overdose stage.

Since I was seated fairly near the front of the plane, getting off in San Francisco was pretty quick and easy for me. I only had one bag with me, and had checked everything else I had brought with me as soon as I had arrived at the airport. Like I said, I have played the airport game a lot, and had my game plan down to a science.

Once off the plane, I went to the rental car counter and got the keys for my rent car. I learned long ago that breaking from tradition is a good thing. I mean, most people go from the plane to baggage claim and stand around waiting for the bags to be unloaded, then they go to the rental car counters and wait in line with the same people they were just at baggage claim with. I go to the rental car counter first while everybody else is standing at baggage claim. No lines at the rental car counter.

Next, I go get a cup of coffee and hit the bathroom. No hurry at this point, because I know my bags went on the airplane first, well before anyone else's did, so they will be coming off last. Next, I go to baggage claim. By the time I get there, most of the crowd is already gone and my bags are on the carousel. I am then out the door, in the rental car, and gone while everyone else is still in line at the rental car counter.

When I got to baggage claim, there were only a few people still there and my bags were indeed on the carousel. Among the people still there were...you guessed it...the young couple from the plane. There were very few bags remaining on the carousel at that point, and naturally, theirs were not among them.

The guy was livid. He was so mad I thought he would blow a gasket at any moment. He had latched on to a gate agent who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and was giving her all sorts of hell about his baggage. Even though the gate agent had absolutely nothing to do with baggage in general and his in particular, he was not letting up one iota.

The gate agent was trying to tell him what he needed to do, but he was too busy giving her hell to listen. The girl was about four feet behind him. She was looking at the floor, and was obviously embarrassed by his actions. She almost seemed to be pretending she wasn't with him. The gate agent was looking around for someone to bail her out but apparently didn't see anyone. I thought for a moment that I ought to step in and see if I could defuse the situation, but thought better of it.

In the first place, it was none of my business. In the second place, I noticed an airport security guy heading in their direction. He was coming up from behind the gate agent, so she didn't see him. The guy was too busy chewing her out that he didn't see him coming, either. The girl was still looking at the floor. I made a quick assessment of the situation and decided it was a really good time for me not to be there any longer. I grabbed my bags and headed for the door.

Since I knew the hotel would be packed with conventioneers, I stopped off on the way and ate dinner at a little out of the way restaurant I knew of. Excellent Cobb Salad. None like it anywhere else.

When I left the restaurant, I thought about driving around the city for a little bit, but decided against it. The rental car I had was a sub-compact. Good for basic transportation, but too uncomfortable for anything other than point-to-point transportation. Besides, I wanted to get to the hotel and get checked in before they cancelled my reservation as a no-show. I also figured that by the time I took my bags to my room and freshened up, the hotel bar should be filling up with conventioneers, and I wanted to be there.

The hotel was as busy as I had suspected it would be. Nevertheless, the staff was quick and attentive and I was checked in in almost no time. The bellhop took my bags and I followed him to the elevator. My room was on the sixth floor overlooking the street.

It wasn't a great room, but it wasn't a bad one, either. There was no view to speak of, but I really didn't care. They had given me a room with two queen beds in it, even though I had specifically asked for a king when I made the reservation. I was surprised that they would make a mistake like that when the hotel was booked solid. I took a quick shower, put on some fresh clothes, and then made my way back downstairs toward the lobby to check out the hotel bars.

I could hear loud voices in the lobby before the elevator doors even opened. When the doors opened, the voices became louder. I couldn't make out what was being said, but the tone was unmistakable. Somebody was mad.

Apparently, the hotel had a reservation for them, and since they had arrived late (gee...I wonder what made them late....>>>>smile<<<<) the hotel had listed them as a no-show and had given the room to someone else. The guy was not happy.

I glanced around the lobby to see if I could locate the source. It wasn't hard to find. It was at the hotel check in desk...and it was the couple from the airport again. Actually, it was the guy. The girl was standing about a yard behind him looking at the floor, still clutching her bags. The guy was on a rampage. Out of curiosity, I moved a little closer to the desk, just close enough to get the gist of the problem.

The hotel clerk told him that the hotel had every right to do that, and that all he would have had to do was make a quick phone call and they would have held the room for him. This looked like an argument that would be going on for a while, as the guy was not backing down, and there was nothing the clerk could do to rectify things.

I glanced at the girl again. I was really beginning to feel sorry for her, even more than I had been up to now. I wondered if she had any real idea what life with this jerk was going to be like. I wondered if she had known what kind of guy he was, and thought she could change him once they got married.

I guess it was really none of my business, but I was wondering if she felt as sorry for herself as I felt for her. Oh, well. Not my concern. I made my way across the lobby to the bar and went inside, expecting to find it full of horny, out of town, conventioneer women.

There were five people in the bar. One was the bartender, and one was me. The other three were huddled in the far corner talking. Looked like some sort of salesmen to me. Apparently the convention had a dinner meeting followed by a late session, so the bar wouldn't fill up for at least two or three more hours. Oh, well. I had nothing but time. I ordered a vodka and tonic from the bartender and made my way to a table that was placed so I could see both the entrance and the bar.

I had been there a short time when the young couple came in. They sat at a table not far from me - close enough so that I could overhear their conversation. They were discussing what to do. Well, the guy was. He was talking about how he was going to sue the hotel and the airline and everybody else he could think of. The girl pretty much sat quietly and let him continue to rant.

After about ten minutes hotel security came in, accompanied by the police. They went right over to the couple, and placed the guy in handcuffs. I guess he had caused such a ruckus at the check-in desk they busted him for disturbing the peace or maybe he had stupidly made some kind of threat. They checked the girl's ID, and left her there when they took him away. She was visibly upset. I saw them through the window as they loaded him into the police cruiser and drove away. I figured he was gone for the night. At least he would have a place to sleep, which is more than she could say.

I can't really say why, but watching the girl across the room really made me want to get involved in this. None of this had been her fault, yet she was paying the consequences for it. She was sitting in a hotel bar with all their luggage, no place to go, and probably no money. I could tell she was on the verge of tears, and seemed to have no real idea of what to do. I ordered a tall double rum and coke from the bartender and took it over to her.

“Here, drink this,” I said, “You look like you could use it.” She looked up, “I don't drink.” she responded. “Well, maybe this one time you should. It will make you feel a bit better if nothing else.” I set the drink down on her table and started to walk away. “Wait,” she said, “Didn’t I see you in at the airport and on the plane?” “Yes,” I replied, “both airports, actually. I couldn’t help but notice. It seems that this trip has been nothing but trouble for you since it began.” “Yeah,” she replied, ‘And it isn't getting any better as it goes along.”

“Look,” I said, “I really can’t ignore a damsel in distress. It just isn’t in my nature. How about this. After you finish your drink, we can take all your luggage and put it in my room for safekeeping, then I’ll take you to dinner. I know you haven’t had a chance to eat anything since sometime before you got on the plane. You have to be hungry. Over dinner maybe we can figure out some sort of plan for you.” “But I don’t know you …” she began. “Well,” I interrupted, “I know you don’t, but I am the closest thing you have to a friend here and I don’t see anyone else stepping up to help you.”

“I guess you’re right,” she said, “I am in kind of a tight situation.” She looked like she was going to cry. “Finish your drink,” I said, “and let’s go with the plan we have so far. We have to start someplace to figure out this mess you are in.” As I thought about what she had said, I was thinking to myself that, with any luck, I might find myself in a tight situation a bit later.

She downed the drink in two gulps. I helped her gather their baggage and we took the elevator up to my room to drop it off. While we were in the room, she said “Thank you for doing this. I don’t think I’ll see Denny until at least tomorrow sometime, and maybe not even then. He has all our money, plane tickets, and everything. I don’t know what I’m going to do.” “Well,” I replied, “we’ll figure something out that will work for you. I’m not one to leave a lady stranded — like some people have.”

Even though I had eaten a salad on the way to the hotel earlier, I had promised to get her some dinner. The hotel was full of conventioneers, and pretty packed and noisy, so I decided to take her someplace nice and quiet. The way she was dressed, though, well, that kinda limited the kinds of places we could get into, and I didn’t think that asking her to change her clothes to go to dinner would be a real good idea under the circumstances. So, I had to adapt.

I drove her to a neighborhood Italian restaurant a few miles from the hotel. I had been there before a couple of years back, and it hadn’t changed a bit. It was a fairly small place, dark wood walls and furniture. Deep carpet. White table clothes. Classy and a bit upscale, but not so much so that they would have a problem with the way she was dressed. We were led to a table for two in a dark corner near the back, with the majority of the available light coming from the candles on our table and on those on tables around us. There were only a few other customers there, and they were on the other side of the room from us.

I ordered a tall double rum and Coke for her and a Maker’s on the rocks for myself. As we looked over the menus, I could tell that she was having a bit of trouble figuring out what she wanted. I hadn’t considered just how small town she was until then. “Let me order for you,” I said. “Okay,” she replied, “you probably know what is good here.” I think it was more of a cover than anything, not wanting to admit that she knew nothing about the menu items. By the time the waiter came back, she had finished almost half of her drink, and I had barely touched mine. I ordered for us both, and asked for a bottle of Berringer White Zinfandel. I had no idea if it actually went with what I had ordered or not, and I really didn’t care. I was never much of a wine drinker, and this was one that I kinda almost liked — sort of, so that is what I ordered. Besides, as she was less knowledgeable than I was, it sounded impressive to her.

We chatted a bit while waiting for our food to arrive. Small talk. She finished her drink just before the waiter appeared with our food. She scarfed it down as if she hadn’t eaten in days, which, in fact, was the case. With a bit of careful manipulation on my part, I drank almost a half a glass of wine and managed to ensure that she drank all the rest of the bottle. Getting her drunk wasn’t really a main part of my plan, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt any. Besides, at this point, I didn’t even have a plan. She had been honest when she said that she didn’t drink, because she was a real lightweight. She hadn’t had a great deal to drink over the past several hours, but she was certainly well on her way to being outright drunk by the time we left the restaurant. She was drunk to the point of having difficulty walking on her own.

Which, of course, meant that I needed to help her, which gave me a reason to hold on to her, and because she was stumbling a bit now and again, well, it wasn’t really my fault if my hands wandered a bit to so as to be in the best position to keep her from falling. She didn’t seem to notice the location of my hands as they moved over her body, which was fine with me. While I wasn’t exactly feeling her up as we walked, I was taking advantage of exploring her and getting a better idea about her build. By the time I got back to the car with her, I had my arm around her waist and had her pulled in kinda tight against my side, and she seemed to be okay with it. I helped her into the car and got in myself, trying to figure out what my next move should be, and again, I found myself at a loss for a plan. I really needed one, though.

The best idea I had at the moment was to take her back to the hotel, then back to my room where their suitcases were. My initial — and so far my only — thought was to offer to let her spend the night in my room with me. After all, I had two queen beds and I only needed one, and she had no place to go, no money, no plane ticket, and no one to turn to but me at the moment, and she was pretty drunk. She needed me. I didn’t know if she would accept my offer or not, or how I might be able to turn things in another direction later in the evening, but I did know that I was gonna try. I had managed to feel her body just enough to know that I would be quite interested in seeing it — and do a lot more than just seeing it if possible.

I drove us back to the hotel, and just as I was about to pull in, I noticed the redneck kid had somehow managed to talk or pay his way out of going to jail, as I saw him enter the hotel lobby. An interesting, and annoying, turn of events. One I had not counted on, but I thought about it for a moment, and figured out that it might not change anything if I played my cards right. The girl was not paying attention to anything at the moment, and she didn’t see what I had seen. I pulled the car in to the parking garage and drove to the third floor to park. The third floor was the first floor that had rooms on it. The elevators required a room key to go any higher than the second floor. It was a security measure to make sure that no one but registered guests or someone accompanying a registered guest could access the floors that had rooms on them. This would work well for me in this situation. I parked as close to the elevator as I could, as she was very, very close to passing out.

I half carried, half dragged her to the elevator. I took her to my room and helped her lie on one of the beds. She wasn’t out yet, but it wasn’t going to be much longer until she was. I sat on the other bed to take a quick breather, as it had been a lot of work getting her back to the room. She was soon snoozing peacefully, and she wouldn’t be waking up for several hours. I sat on the bed and looked at her, trying to come up with a plan.

I drove us back to the hotel, and just as I was about to pull in, I noticed the redneck kid had somehow managed to talk or pay his way out of going to jail, as I saw him enter the hotel lobby. An interesting, and annoying, turn of events. One I had not counted on, but I thought about it for a moment, and figured out that it might not change anything if I played my cards right. The girl was not paying attention to anything at the moment, and she didn’t see what I had seen. I pulled the car in to the parking garage and drove to the third floor to park. The third floor was the first floor that had rooms on it. The elevators required a room key to go any higher than the second floor. It was a security measure to make sure that no one but registered guests or someone accompanying a registered guest could access the floors that had rooms on them. This would work well for me in this situation. I parked as close to the elevator as I could, as she was very, very close to passing out.

I half carried, half dragged her to the elevator. I took her to my room and helped her lie on one of the beds. She wasn’t out yet, but it wasn’t going to be much longer until she was. I sat on the other bed to take a quick breather, as it had been a lot of work getting her back to the room. She was soon snoozing peacefully, and she wouldn’t be waking up for several hours. I sat on the bed and looked at her, trying to come up with a plan.