Letting Off Steam

Stale, musty air filled the cabin as Jacoby and David boarded the plane. Quickly finding his seat, David stows his carry-on in the overhead compartment and sits down by the window. Coming down the isle, Jacoby sees that the seat next to David is empty, along with about a dozen other seats; unusually barren for a trip bound to southern California.

"Hey David, mind if I join you?," Jacoby inquires.

"Not at all," David replies, "I can't sleep on these damn things anyway."

Jacoby places his briefcase in the bin above and tosses his jacket alongside. Sitting down, Jacoby sighs, tired from his day and hoping desperately that this trip will land a new client. Sarcastically, as if to blow off some steam, Jacoby turns to David and remarks, "You don't want to drop a half million in premium billboard space and full page glossies in five general interest rags do you?"

"Actually, put me down for an even mill," David jabs back.

Chuckling, Jacoby appreciates his flight mate accommodating his stress relief. "So, you mentioned earlier some family business." Asking David, "wedding?, graduation?"

As his chin turns away, David replies, "I wish this occasion was so happy." Then pulling the window shade down, he reverts to his polite, eye contact pose. "You mind if I leave it down until we get above the clouds?"

"No problem," Jacoby answers, sensing the approach of an unpleasant subject. "Hey, I'm sorry if I crossed a line by being too nosey."

"We all have them, so at some point the statistics point toward problems, right?," says David as his expression sags. "It's inevitable. Even Bonds struck out every now and then. I just wish my situation wasn't this bad."

"Listen," Jacoby interjects, "it's none of my business. Let me buy you a drink. Miss!," raising his hand to signal the attendant.

"I guess I should be more private about my pending divorce," David continued, "but I just can't pretend anymore that it's not happening. When she left me, she took our two kids and moved in with her parents. My week will consist of fighting about who gets what and trying to convince my girls that their dad loves them. It's been a month since I last saw them."

Sympathizing, Jacoby says, "I don't think you have anything to worry about, of course you love your kids. And they love you."

The attendant approached the two men, smiled and reviewed the drink menu. "What will it be?", Jacoby asked David.

"A vodka spritzer for me," declares David.

"Make it two," Jacoby said, reaching into his pocket and retrieving his money clip. He hands her the cash and reclines his seat.

"Thank you," David says looking over toward the isle seat. "So what about you? You often travel for work?"

"Very often. I'm in advertising and right now, well, it's tough business. I'm networked, have great relationships with my contacts. It's the money factor that's beating me." Continuing to summarize Jacoby says, "The economy is tight and the political culture is such that companies are scared. When that happens, the checkbooks close." Jacoby pauses to taste his cocktail that was delivered almost immediately.

Listening, David kicks his shoes off and says, "At least you have the relationship part down. My problem is just the opposite. I have more money than I can spend; huge house, luxury cars, private school for the girls, but Angie says it just doesn't work anymore."