My husband will tell you I am not an early morning person.
I do my best because the children prefer modern transportation to school, work is always looming and the dog has a regular chase date with the neighbor’s cat each morning. So, I have ample incentive to get out of bed.
Which is why I wasn’t thrilled to wake up early for a 5 a.m. shuttle pickup to the Orlando airport recently. However, taking the shuttle to catch a flight seemed like a good idea.
Until the shuttle driver arrived 15 minutes early.
And he was cheery.
Dragging my luggage to the van, I thought I’d get some sleep during the drive. I nodded off until, 10 minutes into the ride, Mr. Cheery began asking rather in-depth kind of questions. A few other passengers were being picked up along the way, so I figured I could stay awake a bit longer for Larry King.
Since it was still dark, I didn’t pay attention to where we were heading. When we turned into a convenience store, I assumed other riders would be waiting. A petite older woman jumped out of the car next to us without carrying a suitcase. Mr. Cheery walked up to her and they embraced … warmly. This takes customer service to a whole new level, I thought.
The happy couple peeked inside the van, and Mr. C introduced his wife to me. “I always start my morning with my sweetie,” she said squeezing Sweetie’s arm. They invited me inside the store for a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll.
I tried to be pleasant, reminding them we had other passengers to pick up and flights to catch, but the Sweeties were already walking across the empty parking lot.
So I sat.
And sat.
The lovebirds returned and sat on the van’s rear bumper while sipping coffee and giggling like a pair of high schoolers.
“Sure ya don’t want a roll?” Mr. Cheery yelled into the van.
I declined, pointing to my watch. “Whoa! Look at the time, would ya?” I asked.
Mr. and Mrs. Cheery frowned. Mr. C threw out the rest of his coffee, kissing his wife goodbye as he walked past me. We drove, in painful silence, to pick up the other passengers. I tried to make nice, asking Mr. C how long he’d been in the shuttle service. More silence. He chatted with the other riders, but not with me.
“Someone didn’t wake up happy,” he informed our traveling crew while cutting a glance my way.
I tried to sleep as everyone picked teams for “I Spy” and left me out. When we reached the airport drop-off, I said goodbye even though Mr. C was busy exchanging addresses with the other riders.
Walking up to the check-in counter, I realized it took me three-and- a-half hours to make a one-and-a-half hour trip. I checked my watch.
Suddenly, I was craving a cinnamon roll.