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 Nickolas PopovichJan. 22, 2009ENG 101; Sarah White
For Give and For Get
I was running tight on money. A feeling that you can't escape unless that green leafy substanceof debt grew from trees. I had already made plans to fly up to New York to see friends. The planeticket was bought, most of the Christmas presents were, too. The one I decided to leave out – mymother.I have a close bond to her. I guess one would call me a mama's boy. But, with this in mind,why would I leave her out? To be honest, that's a good question. One that I myself cannot evenanswer. And all I did was wait.My mother had remarked to me that since they didn't spend so much money on me as they didmy brother or sister, they would give me some money for transportation while up in New York. I toldher that I didn't really need it, and that it didn't matter how much they spent on my siblings.I like being modest. I don't want to sound full of myself and I don't want to seem needy. Itgives me just the correct balance of fame and shame.Soon the twentieth of December rolled by, and my mother drove me to the bus stop to drop meoff. We part our ways with a hug and I'm off to the Big City for a few days. Once more, I wonder whatI should get her. She told me to have fun and don't worry about anything. Like that will ever happen...The days I spent with my friends were quite enjoyable, but every time we walked into a shop, Iglanced around for something for her. Nothing. In the largest city of the US, I could not find anythingworth giving to my mother. How could this be? Why was this happening to me? Why was it that I,mother's favorite, was the only ignorant one out of us?As my stay ended, I worried just a little bit. With less money than before, and still no ideas,time was running short. Christmas: December 25
th
. Today: December 23
rd
.A day of traveling. My itinerary tells me I'll be home some time around noon. Never trust these
 
around holidays. I get a layover in Cleveland. Stuck in the airport, in Ohio, on the 23
rd
of December. Ishould have been home by now, ordering something online for her. I should not be here right now. Ishould not be here.My flight is scheduled to leave early morning on the 24
th
, Christmas eve. So much tension,questions, and giving away more money I barely have to stay alive on airport food that is overpriced.My money should not be spend on this food. I should have been home yesterday. I shouldn't bespending right now except for on her. This is not happening.I arrive in Chicago at around 10 am. I am relieved I am finally home to accomplish this prolonged mission. This idea that has turned into a monstrosity only by my doings. By myincompetence. I am ready to get up, grab my gab, and jump off the plane just so I could go homealready and deal with this monster. Not yet. Not yet at all. We can't dock. Our gate has been taken by another plane. We have towait an hour to get off. I talk to the stewardess and a few people around me.\, but I still don't forgetthis impending doom. 11 o'clock rolls by. Why aren't we getting off? Why aren't we getting off? Whywas I so fucking dumb to put myself into this? Why can't I get off this damned plane so I can get homealready and get her something?About fifteen minutes afterwards, I step off the plane as it pulls into the gate. I grab my bag andtry to find the bus station. I ask every other person how to get to the bus that will take me home. Anolder janitor decides to take me on a small jog to the other side of the terminal to show me where thisstation is. I thank him quickly and proceed almost running through the slush and snow to catch a bus.I make it, and the bus doesn't come for another forty-five minutes. What the hell. Hurry up. I need toleave. Now! NOW! NOW! NOW! NOW!I tap my feet. I look at my phone or the clock to see the time. Each minute is drawn out tohellish torment. Why do I just get fucked over? Why is it that I just fuck over myself? I hop on the bus once it comes. With this, I feel more relieved. I'll finally be home shortly. Then I can take some
 
time to finish this nightmare, too cumbersome for me to hold. I turn my phone back on, after trying tosave battery so I can call someone to pick me up after so much traveling.I have a text asking where I am. The number is not recognizable to me, so I ask who it is. Myfriend Caleb is asking where I was, because I wasn't at work. Fuck. With the small amount of money Ihave already, my paycheck will be getting smaller as well. I screwed up twice so far. Can things getany worse? How else can I be burdened by the gods? I ask the bus driver if the bus is going toPortage when we hit Highland for any bus changes. She says yes, like every other time I had asked.I stay on the bus, and we start traveling towards a city I'm familiar with, only due to it'sdilapidated figures and facades. Only due by my presence of being the only white kid, a minority here.I have ended at the last stop for this bus. Gary. Strike three, I'm out. I ask the bus driver why I'm notin Portage, and she tells me I was supposed to switch buses back in Highland. What the fuck? Whatthe FUCK?I don't have time. I don't have any more time. I ask them how I can get back and they tell me just to wait for the next bus to come so I can go back to Highland so I can change and go out to Portageto meet up with someone to pick my sorry ass up. More time ticking by that I don't have. At leas the people at the bus station are nice enough to understand my situation and I don't need to pay for another ticket out of Gary to get back home.After the wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round, I arrive atHighland and must wait once more for the next bus to bring me to my long awaited destination. Theclock slowly ticks past. 1:30. We are supposed to be at my grandparents' house at two P.M. I have ahalf an hour for a half an hour bus ride, to go from Portage to home, to shower and get ready and to browse the depths of the internet to buy my mother a present. And being modest, I must show thatnothing is wrong, I'll be fine. I just need to get ready to go, and make sure everything is normal. Iarrive in Portage, my mother picks me up. I was glad to see her, but didn't want to face her for theshame I felt.
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