Date: Sun, 12 Sep 1999 20:58:58 PDT
From: Jeff Kaiser <kaiser_goof@hotmail.com>
Subject: twist of fate chapter 2

I want to thank all those who dropped me a note about chapter one.  I dig
your chili!  Thanks for the feedback, and I look forward to more!

This is a story about a growing friendship and budding romance between two
young men.  If you don't dig that, or if it would be illegal for you to
read about it, STOP NOW.  (How'd you get this far anyway?)

Communication is my fuel.  Write me!
kaiser_goof@hotmail.com
-Jeff

*    *    *    *    *    *
A Twist of Fate, Chapter 2

"Wait a second, I already have my suitcase," Lance said, glancing over his
shoulder and indicating to the bag on the bed with his chin.  Peter's
eyebrows cocked, and his eyes began to grow as he started to think of the
few possible explanations for this situation.  Glancing at the luggage tag,
his jaw dropped slightly as he said, "I guess you're not 'Billy Wilson' of
San Diego, are you..."

"Oh man, I can't believe this!  Great, now there's someone out there who is
desperately searching for their luggage," Lance contemplated as he stared
at the twin luggage before him.

"I can't believe it, either.  I'm really sorry, Lance.  But I mean, what
are the chances that two people would have the same piece of luggage on the
same turnstile in the same airport?"  Peter asked, immediately realizing
that it was a VERY good possibility, and that's why they have all those
reminders posted to 'check your nametag'.  "I'm sure this is a major bummer
for... Billy Wilson," Peter said as he read the nametag again.

"We have to call him.  We have to let him know that we have his
stuff... you know what?  We need to return his suitcase to him.  Bring that
thing over here," Lance said as he walked towards the phone.  "Is there a
phone number with his identification?"

"Yeah, let me read it to you."  Lance dialed the number and waited,
becoming disappointed when he got an answering machine.  When he heard the
beep, he spoke,

"Um, hi... I'm calling for Billy Wilson.  This is going to be a bit hard to
explain, but, well, I think there was some mix-up at the airport... well,
here it goes.  I guess I have your luggage.  It works out that you and I
have the same type of Samsonite luggage, and someone picking up my bags
accidentally picked up yours, too.  I'm sooo sorry!  I'm really sorry!  I
can't even imagine how you feel right now.  Hey listen, I'd like to get
your bag back to you ASAP, and I want to make this whole thing up to
you..." Peter was waving his hands to get Lance's attention.  "Hold on..."
He covered the phone and looked at Peter.

"What?"

"Have him call the hotel and ask for the room when he gets the message."
Lance nodded and resumed his message.

"Okay, sorry.  My name is Lan..."  Lance paused, not really wanting to
reveal his identity to a stranger, "...uh, James... When you get this
message, could you please call me back at...wait ...hold on..."  Lance's
eyes got big as he covered the phone with his hand, saying, "What's the
number to the hotel?"  Peter shrugged as he began to search frantically
through his organizer.  Lance returned to the phone and said,

"...oh nuts... I'm sorry..."  With that, Lance hung up the phone.

"Well, that sure wasn't my finest hour of communication!  We never thought
how we could get a hold of this guy.  Besides, even if he did call the
hotel, the desk would never put him through to the room."  Peter and Joey
both nodded as if what Lance had said was the most profound thing they had
ever heard.

"I'm going to call him back and tell him I'll try him again later tonight.
He's bound to be home sometime!"  With that, Lance dialed the number again
and heard that all-too-familiar recording.

* * * *

"... When you get this message, could you please call me back at...wait
...hold on... oh nuts...I'm sorry..." CLICK.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" I yelled.  My eyes were filled with
disbelief, and my mouth hung open.  I couldn't believe that someone had my
bag, but even more unbelievable is that the guy with my bag hung up on me
without leaving any way to contact him.  CRAP!  I didn't know how much more
of this I could take.  Good news, bad news.  Good news, bad news.  This was
killing me.  I was so distraught that my arms just collapsed on the table
and I buried my face, feeling my eyes sting and begin to well up.

BEEP.  I glanced up at the answering machine and discovered I still had one
more message.  My eyes lit up and my hand darted for the button, pressing
play and praying that it only brought good news.  I heard that familiar
voice once again coming out of my machine, and I smiled.

"You must hate me.  I'm sorry for hanging up.  That was really rude.  It's
just that I was talking with the people I'm staying with, and we don't know
the number where we are, soooo... How about I call you later tonight, and
we can figure out how to get your stuff back to you?  Also, I do mean it
that I want to make it up to you for this screw up.  Again, I'm... James,
and I'll try back in a few hours, maybe 9pm or so?  Again, I'm really sorry
and I'll call you soon.  Bye!"  I glanced at the clock, and it read 7:30pm.
I hadn't missed his call!

I got up and started to do the gig around my bedroom.  I was so happy!
With all the stuff I had gone through on this trip, it seemed like I would
see a happy ending, after all. It's amazing, but I had experienced three
distinct emotions in less than thirty seconds.  Must be a world record.
(For a guy, at least. Haha) Anyway, I was home safe, my luggage was not
being used to smuggle drugs somewhere in the world, and the guy that had my
bag seemed really nice.  Dare I even say, cute?  Eh, who am I kidding.  I
mean, you can't tell anything about people over the phone.  But, he did
have the slightest Southern accent when he spoke, and his voice had so much
concern that he made me feel good just listening to his message.  In fact,
I liked his voice so much, I decided to listen to the messages again.  I
rewound the tape, turned up the volume and fell back on my bed with my
N'Sync CD playing in one ear and my luggage savior soothing me in the
other.  Could life get any better?

When the messages were finished, I stretched my long self out on the bed
and ripped a tear-jerking yawn.  'Where did that come from?' I wondered as
I sat up and rubbed my eyes.  Feeling icky sticky from flying all day, I
decided it was time to freshen up and take a shower.  Unlike my sister who
had her own private bathroom because 'she was a GIRL', my brother and I had
to walk all the way down the hall when I needed to use the facilities.  It
was a pain to get ready in there because it was a bit tight, so I would
frequently be found running half naked down the hall back to my room where
my clothes were.  Needless to say, this provided the opportunity for some
pretty embarrassing situations when my parents would have unexpected
company while I was in the shower.  Today, however, I worried about
nothing, since I had the house to myself.  I tugged my jeans off, pulled my
T shirt off, and wandered down the hall in my boxers.  I could hear
"Tearin' Up My Heart" begin on the stereo, so I rushed back and cranked it
up so I could hear it in the bathroom, snatching my cordless phone in the
same step.

I picked up a tube of toothpaste and began to sing along with Justin,
showing off not much more than he does in the video.  I turned around and
sang to myself over my shoulder, wiggling my butt back and forth.  'Pretty
nice', I thought.  I turned back around and began to examine myself.  I
mean, I'm not the poster child for fitness magazine, but I would probably
make 16th or 17th string... right after some huge Russian mud wrestler.
Haha, just kidding.  I ran my hands through my dirty blonde hair at the top
of my 5'10" body and straightened it out, noticing that the gel had given
up long ago.  I usually kept it pretty short and combed/spiked backwards,
but today was definitely a 'keep the cap' day.  I pulled off my glasses and
leaned forward to check out my brown eyes, my light brown eyebrows, and the
few freckles I had on my nose.  I felt my face, noticing that I still
didn't need to shave, since I just did two days ago.  I stepped back and
noticed that my torso was taking on more of a V shape ever since I got into
the softball league at church.  My shoulders looked a bit broader, my
smooth chest was showing some definition, and my waist... well, maybe we
could lay off a Twinkie or two every week.  The freshman fifteen had
definitely hit me.  I didn't have a spare tire or anything, but you sure
couldn't wash any clothes on my belly.  I ran my hands from my neck down to
my waist, brushing past my brown nipples and proceeding to play with my
belly button and light happy trail for a few moments before resting them on
my hips.

Satisfied with my body, I shucked my boxers and hopped in the shower,
singing once again with the music blaring out my stereo.  "Ahhhhh... A nice
hot shower in my own house," I said out loud as the hot water began to
course over my body.  I enjoyed a very long shower taking my sweet precious
time, fantasizing that SOMEHOW I had been chosen to join N'Sync as a backup
singer and was asked to sing, featured with the group.

I imagined myself on stage at a concert, gripping a microphone, standing
shoulder to shoulder with Joey, Chris, Justin, JC, and Lance... oh,
Lance... and singing my heart out to the screaming fans in the crowd.  'God
Must Have Spent' was the next song to be spit out by the randomly playing
CD player, and I imagined that we were all sitting in a semi-circle of
stools with Justin sitting in the center, about a foot closer to the end of
the stage.  The music started, the girls screamed, and Justin swooned with
that perfect teenie-bopper voice of his.

'Can this be true, tell me can this be real..."

The stools were close enough together that the members of the group could
exchange pats on the back or elbow-leans-on-the-shoulder.  I would put my
elbow on Chris' shoulder, then glance over and smile as I felt Lance place
his hand on my shoulder.  He would nod, give my shoulder a quick squeeze,
and we would continue singing to the crowd.  I love this feeling!  I love
this feeling!  I lov...

RIIIIIING!  I opened my eyes, only to have shampoo slide in and start to
sting.  "Oww!" I yelped as I flailed wildly, turning myself around to the
showerhead, bumping my head on it and knocking it to the side.  It shot
perfectly past the shower curtain onto the toilet, soaking the floor.
"Oww!"  CRAP!  RIIIIIING!  I blindly reached up to refocus the showerhead,
rinsing the shampoo from my eyes. RIIIIIING!  "I'm coming, already!"
Managing to turn both water knobs off simultaneously to prevent myself from
getting frozen or burned, I reached out the curtain for my towel.
RIIIIIING!  I dried my hand and reached for the phone, hitting the button
and saying, "Hello?!?"  'Hi this is Billy.  I'm not home right now, but
please leave a message after...'  CRAP.  The machine picked up!  With my
towel in one hand and phone in the other, I darted down the hall to my
room, soaking wet, wearing nothing but a smile, where I finally managed to
turn the machine off.  "HELLO!?"  Now, I couldn't hear a thing because, OF
COURSE, the stereo was still blaring loud enough to shake the windows...at
the next door neighbor's house.  Cranking the volume down to an acceptable
level, I repeated myself again, "HELLO!?!!!"

"Wow... wasn't that quite the three ring circus," said the voice on the
other end.

"Yeah, sorry about that.  I was in the shower, then the phone rang, then
the machine picked up, then the radio was too loud and... well, you know
the rest."  I decided to omit the shampoo thing, AND the fact that it was
N'Sync I was listening to.  The other end chuckled.

"I've had days like that."

"So, um, who is this?"  I asked, still trying to get my senses back and not
recognizing the voice.

"Okay, I leave two messages on your machine, I am the protector of your
luggage, and all I get is 'who is this'?  I'm disappointed," came the
response in a joking tone.

"OH MY GOSH.  It's you!  It's James!  My mind is still spinning from the
shower and all.  I'm sorry!"  I glanced at the clock, and sure enough, it
read 9:02pm.  I must have been in the bathroom a LONG time!

"Ha ha.  Don't worry about it.  It must have been some shower!"

"Yeah, it was," I said, trying and figure out just what he meant by that.
I looked down, and realized I was still bare as the day I was born.  I
proceeded to towel off, then wrap the towel around me and lay back on my
bed.

"Anyways, I'm so sorry for the whole mix-up.  I'm traveling with a bunch of
people, and one person was in charge of picking up the bags.  I guess he
did too good of a job, since I got two for the price of one!"

"Aw, don't apologize, James.  I know mistakes happen.  I'm just so glad
that my bag is safe.  It... IS safe, right?"

"The suitcase?  Oh sure, sure.  It's doing quite well.  Although, I didn't
like any of your clothes, so I just tossed those out the window."  The
voice paused for a moment.  "I'm just kidding!  Everything is fine, and I
haven't even opened it.  All I did was read the tag.  You've got terrible
penmanship, you know?"

"Well, it's not easy to write all your vital information on a tag the size
of a stamp, using the back of your hand for support!"

"I hear you on that one."  I had been smiling through the whole
conversation, but the last few things he said with that voice really made
me grin.  I never wanted to hang up from this guy.  He was so relaxing, so
funny, so... close.  I had been talking with him for maybe two minutes, and
it felt like we had been friends for a long time.  I asked him,

"So, why are you in town?  You mentioned you were here with friends?"

"Yeah, I'm in... well, I'm in a touring music group.  We travel around and
do concerts here and there for people."

"Oh, that's cool.  I'm really into music myself.  I want to go to school
and get my degree in music.  What instrument do you play?"

"Well, I play... the guitar."

	Thinking he was in an orchestra or something, I was satisfied with
his answer and we continued talking about school, television, families,
friends, hobbies, music, etc.  Pretty much anything that came to mind, we
talked about.  And it wasn't one of those conversations where one person
dominated the discussion over the other.  We both just yabbered and
chattered equally.

"So what kind of music do you like?" he asked.

"Oh, all sorts!  Pop, R&B, a little country, classical; funk and disco
ROCK!  I like to listen to music that I can sing along to.  I love to sing,
even though the only place I sound good is in the shower."

"I'm sure you sound just fine.  Let me ask you something... was that N'Sync
playing when you answered the phone?"  I hesitated, and finally answered,

"Um, yeah...it's... my... sister's CD, and a lot of the songs are in my
range."  I cringed as I told a lie to my new acquaintance.  The voice
paused for a second, and said,

"Oh okay.  I like their music, too."  He paused again, and continued, "I
actually met some of their dancers once.  They were touring where I live,
and we met in a fast food restaurant.  The bus that had the group had
already left, but the rest of the gang was still there."

"That's cool!  I haven't met a lot of celebrities or famous people in my
life."

"Well... what IF you were to meet a celebrity?  Like, if you were to bump
into someone from... say, N'Sync.  What would you say or do?"  I was
curious about his line of questioning, but I answered,

"Hmmm... I've always hoped that I would treat them like any other person.
I mean, people get too freaked out about musicians and actors and athletes
and politicians just because they see them on TV or on stage.  They're
normal just like me, and probably want to be treated normally, too."  There
was another pause, and then,

"That's great.  I hope I'd have the same attitude if I actually met someone
famous!"  Another pause.  "Ohmygosh, look at the time!"  I glanced at the
clock, and was shocked to find out it was 1:36am.  We'd been chatting for
over four and a half hours!  "Billy, I'm sorry.  I totally lost track of
time.  It's just that we got chatting about everything, and... haha.  I
just thought of something.  The whole reason for me calling was to set up
how to get your bag back, and we haven't talked about that at all!  Aren't
we just the social butterflies?"

"Well, when you find someone you have a lot in common with, you tend to
want to hang on to them."  I mentally gasped after I said this, not
believing I'd let something like that slip.

"Ya know what, Billy?  I feel the same way.  I have a bunch of friends, but
I really felt like I could connect with you tonight."  LONG PAUSE.
"Twilight Zone stuff here, ya know?  Anyway, back to the subject at hand.
Are you able to survive without the bag until tomorrow?"

"Sure, I've got extra everything here.  So... how can I get my bag back?  I
guess you're probably busy with your band, so I can come pick it up."

"Bull crap!  I got you into this problem, and I'll get you out.  I have
your address, so I'll find a way to get out to your house tomorrow and drop
it off.  How does that sound?"

"Um, well, that sounds great, if that's really what you want to do."  I was
hoping he'd say that, and NOT have gone the easier route of having me pick
it up.  I was really smiling at the prospect of seeing this guy face to
face.  I had expected to simply drive to his hotel and pick up my bag from
the desk, but now I get to meet him!

"I'm sure we're both pooped, so lets get some sleep, and I can be there
around 11-12pm tomorrow morning?"

"That would be great!  I'll look forward to meeting you, James.  But not as
much as I'm looking forward to getting my suitcase back!"

"Oh hardee har.  Be nice to me, or I won't be nice to your bag.  But
seriously, I'm looking forward to seeing you tomorrow, too.  And by the
way, I am serious about making this whole thing up to you.  We can figure
something out."

"Sounds good to me.  11-noon it is.  I'll see you here."

"Hasta linguini.  Happy dreams.  G'nite."

"G'nite."

I pressed the 'off' button on my cordless phone and felt a wave of euphoria
pass over my body.  I had just gotten off the phone with the sweetest guy
I'd ever met.  The sweetest guy!  His voice carried his smile through the
phone, and somehow it had popped from the phone and on to my face.  Just
from talking to him, I could sense that he was kind, confident,
intelligent, and he had a great sense of humor.  These are all things I
strive to find in a friendship, and that are so hard to find all in one
person.  But this guy, James, seemed to have it all.  I wanted so much to
talk with him more, to learn more about him, find out what made him tick.
BUT, we clearly had to go.  If it was possible to get a crush from a phone
conversation, you might as well have dropped an anvil on me like in those
cartoons because I was CRUSHED.

I looked down and realized I was still wearing my wet towel from the
shower.  I slowly sat up, hearing joints and knuckles popping all over my
body from not moving around much during my phone conversation.  I stretched
as I dropped the towel to the floor and donned a fresh pair of shorts from
my dresser.  I walked through the house and turned off all the lights,
finishing with my bedroom light and setting my alarm clock for 9am.  As I
climbed into bed, I tried to picture what James looked like.  I quickly
realized that it was an impossible task, seeing as I had nothing to
reference in formulating my image of him.  Therefore, I was satisfied in
knowing that whatever he looked like in the morning, he would still be that
sweet guy I had met on the phone.  With this chaotic day ending in near
bliss, I trailed off to sleep.

* * * * * *

BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ.

"Lance!  LANCE!!  Your alarm is going off," Joey grogily yelled from the
other bed.  Lance stirred and pulled his bed-head out from under his
pillow.  He reached up, smacked the snooze button, and promptly buried his
face back in the pillow.

"Why is your alarm so early?  Our call for the show isn't until 5 o
'clock," Joey mumbled, his eyes still closed.

"I'ph ghaph tph thpa verh bag bahph," Lance drooled.  Realizing he had
face-planted the pillow, he turned his head and repeated his line so his
roommate could understand him.  "I'm going to take the bag back."

"Wha huh?  Bag?  You mean that suitcase?  Just have Peter or the hotel van
take it!  Then you don't have to worry about it."

"Yeah, but I do worry about it.  It's my fault, or at least my
responsibility, so I want to fix it."

"Well, whatever floats your boat, Scoop.  Personally, I'm going to get back
to my dream.  I think I was in a hot tub with Cameron Diaz.  Come here,
Cameron baby..."  With closed eyes, Lance smiled and also drifted back to
sleep.


Not twenty minutes later, the phone began to ring in Lance and Joey's room.
Startled once again from their needed slumber, they both jumped, and Joey
reached for the phone.

"You better tell me I won a million dollars."

"Good morning, sunshine.  Hope you all slept well, because we've got a long
day ahead of ourselves.  We have our breakfast meeting in 45 minutes so get
your sorry butts going!"

"Yes yes, we love you too, Peter.  We'll be down soon."  Joey hung up the
phone, glanced over at Lance, and said, "Why is this fun again?  Why do we
leave our happy homes and sleep in hotels only to be awoken every day at
the butt-crack of dawn to go down and eat cafeteria food and have meetings
with people we don't want to have meetings with?"

Lance, who had sat up in the meantime, said, "I was told it was for the
babes...  BUT I haven't seen any of them, yet.  All I'm stuck with is you,
and you just lie there and snore."

This comment garnered Lance a pillow smack square in the head, which was
promptly compensated right back at Joey.  After some pretty serious shots
and some considerable rearranging of both body and furniture, the two
collapsed on the floor in exhausted giggles.  Ahhh, to be young adults and
have a job that allowed them to act like kids.  They just sat there and
caught their breaths for a few moments.  Joey, who was farther from the
bathroom than Lance, glanced over to the door and said,

"Oh my gosh, what's that over there?!"  Lance glanced quickly to his left
as Joey took the perfect opportunity to beeline for the bathroom for his
morning shower.

"Made ya look!  Made ya look!  You're really a sucker, Scoop," Joey cried
as he sprinted into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.  Lance
tried to tackle him as he flew by, but he was just too quick.  Maybe Joey
DID have some Superman in him, after all!

"You jerk-off!"  Lance yelled through the bathroom door.

"Yah yah, at least I know how!"  Lance just shook his head.  Joey was
always one step ahead of the game, but Lance could always make up for it in
his own quiet, mischevious ways.  He grabbed his robe to cover up his
T-shirt and boxers and headed towards the door.  Walking directly next door
on the same side of the hall, he knocked and was greeted by Justin.
Justin's eyes were watery, slightly crossed, and he had the appearance of
dried drool spilling down his mouth.

"Man Justin, you look like you got hit by a train!"

"Cereal.  Cereal.  Cereal," was all Justin could say.  Lance knew well that
Justin was not himself until breakfast, and by his looks, it would take AT
LEAST three bowls this morning.  Lance patted Justin on the back as he
walked in to find JC sitting on the bed, brushing his freshly washed hair.

"I need to use your bathroom really quick," Lance said, heading for the
door.

"Is yours broken?" JC asked.

"No, it's currently occupied... but not for long." Lance grinned as he
turned on the cold water on the sink, the cold water in the shower, and
flushed the toilet.  The two hotel rooms were mirrored to each other, and
Lance was hoping that they shared the same water lines.  His suspicions
seemed to be correct when he heard a loud thud coming through the wall of
the shower, followed by softer thuds traveling through the floor.  Lance
could even make out a muffled scream come through the walls.  Lance cackled
a wicked laugh and said to himself, "He won't be jerkin' it for a while
NOW."

Lance walked back to his room only to find Joey emerging from the bathroom,
wearing nothing but a towel, with a big red area on his chest.  I mean,
this thing was wickedly big.  It took all the will power in his body not to
bust up laughing.

"Out so soon?"

"Yeah, it was cut short by... well... just be careful.  The water pressure
is crazy in this place!"

"I'll keep that in mind!"  Lance said, trying to hide smile that was
busting out of his face.  Lance grabbed an outfit and ran into the
bathroom, quickly turning on the water to mask his hooting laughter.
"Joey, 1.  Lance, 1," he chuckled as he shed his robe, T-shirt and boxers,
and hopped in for a comfortable shower.

All the guys met in the caf‚ at the right time.  In fact, it was the
first time in months that the whole band was on time for anything!  The
guys ordered first, followed by Peter, then Roger, their road manager, who
had taken a late flight in the night before.  Once everyone was settled,
Roger spoke.

"I take it you all got settled in.  I hope you're all comfortable, because
we'll be here for a week or so, as you know.  Tonight's concert will be
just like all the others... nothing big is going to change.  You'll still
have all your headliners... Brittany, 98 degrees, the usual.  There is a
local band that will be playing as the lead opener, and you'll get to meet
them a bit later at the rehearsal.  While the call for the concert isn't
until 5pm, we still have some radio interviews scheduled for this morning
and afternoon.  You'll be doing your magic on the air at 11:30a, plus a
quickie concert tease at 2pm before you swing back by here to get ready."

"Hey Roger... I don't remember those radio interviews being on the agenda,"
Lance said, suddenly concerned about his previously scheduled appointment.

"Well, they were last minute.  The managers of the stations contacted PR
and they booked them in the last day or so."  Lance felt his heart drop as
the realization hit him that he wouldn't be able to return the bag.  Every
bone in Lance's body was taught to respect his commitments and make right
what was wrong, but this was going to cause him to break his promise to
Billy.  He obviously had to put the band first.  Hesitating to respond,
Lance decided to remain silent about his dilemma.  He didn't really want to
advertise to the road manager that he wished to gallivant into the
countryside and play good samaritan for the afternoon.  Roger would simply
not understand.

Lance simply nodded as Roger went on, wrote a note to Pete and passed it
over.  Pete unfolded the note and read, 'we need to talk.  I need some
favors.'

* * * *

I had never been a nervous person.  I mean, SURE, I'd sweat before finals,
or when my favorite ball team was ahead by one point with 20 seconds left
in the game.  But that morning, I was a wreck.  The alarm had gone off at
9am, and I was out of bed jumping at 9:00:02am.  I took another shower,
tried on about half a dozen outfits, and did my hair four different ways.
I wound up sticking with the first outfit and first hair style.  The moral
of the story?  Always trust your instincts.  Anyway, I'm glad no one was
home.  I had called the McGee's, where my brother was staying, and found
out they had gone on a camping trip.  HAD anyone been home, they would have
thought I was a thirteen year-old girl going to her first sweethearts
dance.  I was so jumpy and restless, it wasn't funny.  It wasn't even 10am
yet, and I had accomplished more since I had awoken than I do sometimes in
a day of concentrated schoolwork.  I wound up checking my appearance in the
mirror ONE more time, and then crashed on the couch, flipping on Star Trek:
Deep Space 9.  I was hoping it would steal my attention until James showed
up.  'What would he be like?  Would he just drop the bag off and go, or
would he stick around and chat some more?  Maybe he'd like lunch... nah,
he's probably too busy.  What am I thinking, he wouldn't think the same of
me as I do of him.  I'm just Boring Billy, not cool guy James...'  The
commercial break started in the program, and I realized I had been running
these thoughts through my head for half an hour.  The plot of the show?
Who knows.  What I DID know is that the waiting was driving me crazy!

I managed to keep my mind focused on the program until it was over, when I
noted that it was 11am.  'He said he'd be here between 11a-noon.
Soo... any time now..."

11:15 came and went.  I got up and wandered around the kitchen, making sure
there were sodas chilling in the refrigerator.

11:30.  Nothing yet.  The bathroom got another touch-up, as did my hair.

11:45.  I ran to check my messages, just in case.  Zippo on the recorder.

12:00.  Okay, so he's a little late.  Maybe he ran into traffic... at
noon...  in the middle of the day... when everybody who drives is already
at work... coming the opposite direction... on city
streets... hmmm... well, that argument just fizzled, didn't it?

12:45.  My heart sunk.  James had told me he would be here.  I found him to
be intelligent, caring, and humorous.  I must have missed the part about
trustworthy.  Looking past this missed opportunity to meet my new friend,
it also occurred to me that I STILL didn't have my bag... AND I had no way
of contacting him.  My discouragement began to turn to anger as I thought
about it all.

1:19pm.  I was sitting on the couch eating potato chips, watching bad soap
operas and feeling sorry for myself, when I heard it.  Faint at first, but
then louder.  It was not only getting louder, but getting closer.  I ran to
the end of the living room to peek into the front yard, and sure enough,
there was some hotel van pulling into my driveway.  Yippie!  My heart rate
picked up, my palms started to sweat, and my mind started to race.
Glancing to the couch as I cantered down the hall to the front door, I saw
the bag of chips, reminding myself I probably had dragon breath.  I
sprinted to the bathroom and brushed my teeth like it was going out of
style.  Scrub scrub.  As I spit the last of the toothpaste out, I heard the
doorbell ring.  I rinsed and spat, grabbing a towel as I ran out to the
door.  Tossing the towel, I took a deep breath, turned the door knob, and
opened the door to find...

a man in his 50's holding my suitcase.

A deafening pause ensued at my front door.  Somewhere in the distance a dog
faintly barked.  A feather floated by in the air.  I swear I saw a
tumbleweed roll past, followed by a lone cricket's chirping somewhere in
the bushes.

"Delivery for a Mr. Billy Wilson," said the man as he read my name from his
clipboard, breaking the silence.

"Th..th..that's me.  Are... you... James?"  I wasn't going to like either
of the possible answers.  A 'yes' would mean my telephone sweetie was three
times my age.  A 'no' would mean James had broken his commitment.

"The name's Ron.  I work for the hotel.  If you could sign here."  I numbly
grabbed the clipboard and signed something haphazardly across his paper.
Ron glanced at it, examined my hieroglyphics, and said, "Well, that'll do.
Have a good day."

'I should be happy, right?  I got my luggage back safe and sound, plus I
got to chat with somebody really nice on the phone.  The whole experience
made me feel great last night, so how come I feel so let down right now?'
All of this flashing through my mind in a half-second, I blinked, breathed,
yelled thank you to Ron, and closed the door with luggage in hand.  I sat
down on the couch, stared at my bag, and started thinking again.
 
'Come on, Billy.  Grow up!'  I don't even KNOW this guy, he doesn't even
KNOW me, and I'm just blowing this whole thing out of proportion.  I'm so
tempted to use the words heartbroken and destroyed to describe my
condition, but that would be so silly because I've never met him.  He'd
have probably just dropped the bag off, shaken hands, and driven right back
into his own life.  I got to chat on the phone, he made me feel good, I got
my luggage back.  No Billy, life is good, life goes on.  PHEW.

I half smiled as I got up and walked back to my bedroom, thinking how silly
it was for me to think I could make anything out of this whole mess.  By
the time I got to my room, I was laughing and shaking my head about the
whole ordeal.  I hit play on the CD player and tossed the bag on the bed.
As I reached to open the latches on my suitcase, 'Tearin' Up My Heart' came
on AGAIN, and I yelled, "SHUT UP!" at the stereo, laughing as I thought of
the lyrics.

I had just opened the luggage when I noticed a plain white envelope sitting
in the middle of my clothes, right on top.  I cocked my head and grunted,
"arruggh?", not remembering anything like this when I packed it in
Virginia.  Upon closer inspection, I found the words, "FOR BILLY" written
on it.  This piqued my curiosity, and I opened it.  I pulled out a note
written on regular paper, and two smaller pieces of paper fell out.  I read
the letter.


Hey Billy-

I'm not doing too well on the reliability thing, am I?  First I screw
everything up with your bag, then I don't show up and make everything right
by dropping it off personally.

I was really looking forward to meeting you, but duty called and my music
group had an unplanned rehearsal this morning.  I know sending the bag via
hotel courier is not the same thing, but at least you got your bag back.

In an attempt to start making things better, I've included a few tickets to
a concert being held in town tonight.  I had these, but my group has a
performance tonight and I won't be able to use them.  Please try to use
them, since I think they're good seats.

I still want to meet up with you, so I'll try to call you tonight after my
little gig and talk some more.  I might even have a surprise for you.

Your bud (hopefully),
-James


I was floored.  Now I was really confused.  What do I think?  What do I do?
Who do I call?  When can I... BREATHE, Billy, BREATHE.  He still wanted to
meet me, but got caught in a rehersal.  HA!  No problem.  Excuse accepted!
He's forgiven!  Now to just wait for the call...

I started daydreaming again, until the two slips of paper that had fallen
out of the letter caught my attention.  I picked them up and realized they
were the tickets.  Ah yes, that makes sense.  So who is going to be
performing at this little shindig tonight?  I scanned the ticket for a
second, and my jaw near hit the bed and rolled onto the floor.  I inhaled,
and said the name out loud,

"N'Sync."