The taxi arrived at the airport in the afternoon. It was a rainy day in Germany. The female passenger frowned, although it wasn't unusual at this time of the year. Almost every day began and ended with a cold wind, icey raindrops and a feeling of depression. She was more than happy to flee from this place. At least for two weeks.
She leaned forward and asked the taxi driver "How much is it?". "Thirty-five dollars, Miss.", the taxi driver answered. She sighed. She was a local and knew that the taxi driver took an extra long route to the airport to maximise his income. Unfortunately she was too shy to express her anger, so she just longed in her bag which was sitting next to her and paid the man. To be honest, she was just happy to flee from this stinky cab and its creepy driver.
He had examined her through his mirror all the time. Not just once has his stare remained on her breasts, although she didn't wear anything sexual. The opposite was the case. She wore a wide sweatshirt and underneath a t-shirt. One hand on the door handle she looked back to him and murmured a quite goodbye. The driver nodded his head, watching her while she got out of the car, obviously looking at her ass. "Hopefully I can take you back at home, when you come back in two weeks." He said with a seductive, but disgusting smile on his face, revealling his yellow teeth.
She stood in the rain for a moment, and shivered because of that thought, before entering the main hall. She was running out of time because of the bad driving style the taxi driver used. She hurried to the information and asked for the right counter. "You need to go to Terminal B, Counter 56, Miss."
She walked quickly to the right counter. "Passport, please.", the handsome, but somehow homosexual looking man at the counter was polite but straight forward, he had no intention to small talk. She handed her documents over and he took a look at her passport. "Alright Miss Rebecca Walter. Any preferences of seating? I can offer you a seat at the window or in the middle." Rebecca thought for a second and decided to sit at the window. "At the window, please.", she replied. The man tapped a few letters in his keyboard and looked up again. "Please put your suitcase on the scale. She lifted her suitcase and put it on the scale, knowing that it wasn't heavier than the restrictions allowed but she always got a bit nervous at that part. The thought that her scale at home could be broken, rushed through her head. But the fear was unfounded because her suitcase only weighted eight-teen kilograms. The airport employee marked her bag with her name, the destination and a lot of other letter combinations Rebecca couldn't interpret.
After her suitcase entered its own adventure behind the curtain, the employee handed her the plane tickets and her passport. "You need to go to Gate 22. It is to your left. Better hurry, you are kind of late. Nevertheless, have a nice vacation!", he said, eager to serve the next costumer. "Thank you.", Rebecca replied. She stepped to the side and headed for Gate 22.
Before she could enter the Gates she needed to go through a security check. Her bag was scanned and a middle-aged woman slid her hands over Rebecca's body to look for any kind of weapon. After that procedure Rebecca could continue her way. While she was walking through the corridors a mechanical voice rang through the speakers. "Attention please, Rebecca Walter, is wished to be at Gate 22, I repeat, Rebecca Walter, please come to Gate 22. The flight is departing in five minutes." 'Fuck, I need to hurry! I don't want to miss my flight!' Rebecca thought to herself and started running.
The Gates flew past her while she counted. 'Gate 13, Gate 14... Gate 17... Gate 21, Gate 22!' Out of breath and with sweat dripping from her forhead, she arrived at Gate 22. "I...", she exhaled loudly, " I... I am so sorry, I am Rebecca Walter. I hope, I am not too late." The stewardess in front of her looked down on her with a slight hint of disgust in her facial expression. "You are pretty late. But luckily for you, you aren't too late. Please give me your ticket." With slightly shaking hands, Rebecca handed her ticket over. The stewardess scanned the ticket and gave it back. Without further eye contact the stewardess pointed to the entrance behind her. Rebecca was a little angry about this behaviour. Of course she knew that she was late but that wasn't a reason to treat her this way. Her lips pressed together she followed the pointed direction and shortly after she entered the plane.
The air was already thick and it smelled like a mixture of sweat and hygienic room spray. "Please go and take your seat, Miss.", a young woman said friendly. She was obviously another stewardess, but less angry about the delay caused by Rebecca. Rebecca nodded and walked through the small corridor between the seats. It was a fairly small plane with only two rows of seats each row containing three seats. She read the signs over the seats and found her row and seat.
In row 14, seat B sat a chubby man reading a newspaper. He looked up to her after she came to stop next to him. "Oh, you need to walk past me right?", he asked with a kind smile on his face. She nodded. "Well, no problem just let me stand up and make some space for you." As he stood up, he gasped a few times. It seemed to be very exhausting for him to stand up. Rebecca squeezed her way through to her seat at the window. 'What a great start.' She thought and put on her seatbelt. "I was looking forward to sit all by myself in this row, but having to sit next to such a nice young lady like you, is the better option.", the man said while he fell into his seat. Rebecca nodded but could only remain a half-hearted smile as she realized that the source of the sweaty odor came from the man next to her. 'That is going to be a very long flight...'
Three rows behind her a handsome man watched her while she took her seat. With a mixture of rage and enlightment he followed every move of hers. 'Good', he thought, 'I almost thought you wouldn't make it on time. You better behave now or I have to think about a few punishments. My pretty girl.'