In the hour plus I had left in the flight, I planned my strategy. She had checked her luggage, so I didn’t have to worry about getting out of the plane quickly. I’d mosey on over to the Baggage Claim, pretend to wait for a bag, and then see where she went.

That was pretty much it.

I was at the mercy of whatever mode of transportation she chose to get out of the airport. If she took a cab, I’d be in luck because you can still get a cabbie to follow another cab for the right tip.

If she took an Uber, though, I was fucked. There is no setting in the app for “follow that car!”

The likelihood of her taking the train with a big ass piece of luggage was negligible, so those were my two options. God, I hate Uber!

We eventually landed right as the sun started to peek over the horizon. New York is truly beautiful at dawn. There is so much hidden promise of what the new day can bring. If you can make it there, you can make it anywhere. That kind of thing.

And then a rat brushes your leg as you step in a puddle of rainwater, piss, and shit.

Us peasants in economy moo’d up the aisle slowly trying to get out. She must have been one of the first few out. For a brief second, I panicked thinking she might have spotted me and would abandon her suitcase and get the hell out of the airport before I caught up to her.

Then I realized I hadn’t slept and was being an idiot.

I finally exited the plane and headed over to Baggage Claim. At this hour, nothing was open so those pretzels and water were going to be breakfast.

I took my sweet time, counting on the inefficiency of airport employees. They say you can never go broke overestimating the laziness of the American Civil Service Worker.

As I thought, she was there, rather impatiently tapping her foot and waiting for her bag. I secretly smiled while I sized her up.

She was about 5 foot 4 with long brown hair, slim build, medium sized tits, and a decent ass. Perfectly cromulent, as they say.

I chose a spot on the same side of the carousel but on the opposite end. After about ten minutes, the bags started coming out and people, as they do, started crowding around.

She kept her eyes fixated on the belt, but I could have sworn her lips were moving. It seemed she was talking to someone, but I couldn’t tell who. There were several men surrounding her and it could have been any of them. I was positioned to see her face, not theirs.

Her face looked serious but not scared. Maybe slightly pissed off? Maybe it was some dude trying to pick up on her?

Mercifully for her, her bag came down the chute and she grabbed it quickly. I pulled the handle of my carry-on and followed her out the door. As far as I could tell, none of the men surrounding her followed her.

To my relief and surprise, she walked straight out of the terminal, across the road, made a left, and then walked towards the TWA Hotel. I kept my distance but followed the same path.

She entered the lobby and went to the check-in area. There was no one there, so I had time to catch up and stand in line behind her until the clerk arrived.

“Good morning! How can I help you?”

She spoke low and it was hard to tell what she was saying.

“Certainly we can hold your luggage until check-in. Allow me.”

He took her bag and wrapped a tag around it. He gave her a piece of paper and she walked off to the right. I stepped up to the counter.

“Hi! I just found out I have a 24 hour layover due to some plane getting stuck on a connection because of mechanical issues. Better safe than sorry I guess. By any chance are there any rooms available for tonight?”, I asked politely.

“Let me check for you.”

He typed quickly into his computer.

“I have a non-smoking King with a runway view but it won’t be available until 4 this afternoon.”

“Great! I’ll take it. Can I leave my bag like that lady before me?” He nodded, took my credit card and driver’s license, and typed away happily on his computer.

“So, I come back at 4?”, I said as I grabbed my cards and the ticket for my bag from his hand.

“Yes. If you’d like, you can come back early and enjoy our pool. I can reserve you a time slot.”

“Can I bring a friend?”

“I can make the reservation for two.”

“Perfect.”

I tapped on my phone and sent a text.

“You’re all set. We’ll see you later today.”

“Thanks!”

I now had a whole day to myself. I knew she would come back here and stay the night, so there was no need to try and follow her today. I mean, I could, but why bother? I had friends to see.

I headed up to the AirTrain station, bought a ticket, and went to Jamaica. There, I bought a MetroCard, loaded it with $20, and went down to the E train platform.

As I headed into The City, I received a reply to my text. I smiled as I read it. This was going to be a great day.

I fired off a bunch more texts during the time it took to get into Midtown. I finally put the phone away and exited at the Grand Central station.

I was giddy with anticipation as I walked up the platform towards the terminal itself. After a few minutes, I could see the glory of the main hall. There are very few places in the world that put me in awe as does the Main Hall of Grand Central Station.

I picked a spot off to the side and stood there like a dumb tourist, taking it all in. For a split second, I felt like I was in a movie. I always feel that way when I go there. It never fails.

After a few minutes, I headed down to the market to see what overpriced food I could stuff in me. The selection, I have to say, is wonderful. Specially if you’re on business and writing off expenses.

I got more responses from my texts and plans started to develop. Finally, I got the call I was waiting for.

“Hi!”

“Hi! What brings you to town?”

“You.”

“Liar.”

“Well, a case, but you know I couldn’t let an opportunity to see you go by. Can you get away?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Pool in the afternoon, sex, drinks in a 60s plane, sex, dinner, sex, possibly sleep?”

“Not sure I can do the overnight. You know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Other than that, sounds like a plan. 2 ish?”

“Yup. See you then.”

I had the biggest smile as I exited the Main Hall and walked out into Midtown Manhattan. I must have looked like the dumbest yokel tourist on earth. I’m shocked I didn’t get mugged.

***