Return to Sender: Leavin' On a Jet Plane

Dear Philadelphia:

We just wanted to say thanks for loving us so much so much that you don’t want to let us leave you.

You mean you don’t? Then why do you always hold us hostage at the Philadelphia International Airport?

As we write this, we’re high in the air somewhere west of Philadelphia. Three hours and forty-eight minutes later than our scheduled departure. You see, we were supposed to get on one plane, and that plane got cancelled due to inclement weather on the other end. The good people at our first airline heard our distress over the phone and booked us with another airline. We had to retrieve our baggage and schlep it across four terminals to check in with that airline, and then the people at that airline had trouble finding our reservations because they were so recently made. And then, at last, we got on our plane. And we left our gate. And then we sat on the runway for over an hour, waiting to take off, behind a queue of twenty-seven other planes. We expect to miss our connecting flight and sleep on the floor of the airport that we were only supposed to be at for forty-five minutes.

It wouldn’t be so bad if this were the first time this had happened. But we’ve been late out of Philadelphia before, because of blizzards in Chicago, thunderstorms in Dallas, and hail in Minneapolis. There was also that time that we almost missed our flight because the corrupt cabbie on the way to the airport wouldn’t let us out of the taxi until we paid about four times the fare we were supposed to pay. And the time that we couldn’t get the keys to our new apartment so that we could drop stuff off en route to the airport and we ended up having to fly standby on a later flight because it took three hours to track the keys down.

So we’ve come to the conclusion that you just really hate to see us go. You hate it so much that you’ll do anything you can do to keep us from going. That’s how much you love us. But we love you too, Philly. Leaving you is never easy. It’s just that, sometimes, we’ve got to. We’ve got families who miss us. We’ve got vacation time that we’ve earned. We’ve got oppressive heat and humidity to get away from. We’ve got an oral surgery appointment we have to keep. Every couple needs some time apart.

You see, when we leave you, it allows us to appreciate you more. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and all that. You really don’t have to keep us from leaving you. It makes people think that we’re in a dysfunctional relationship. And we know that’s not the case. This is the longest relationship we’ve ever had. We take this relationship very seriously. We will come back to you. We want to make it work.

Unless you keep trying to make us stay. You aren’t supposed to take someone you love hostage. These things always end badly: police raids, murder-suicides, sloppy break-ups. We’re committed to seeing this relationship work, but not if you’re going to be so demanding. As Samantha said on some episode of Sex and the City somewhere along the line: we love you, but we love ourselves more. We’re not going to hang out in an emotionally abusive relationship. And so when you keep us from going on vacation, you make us worry that things aren’t going to work out between us. And that scares us, Philly. Because things have been so good, and we’d hate to have to put an end to it.

Of course, all that may be an empty threat. Because what are the odds of you letting us leave you and get on a plane, anyway?

Post-script: we did end up getting onto our second plane because of sheer good luck and a couple of phone calls placed by our mother, and we arrived at our final destination six hours later than had been originally intended. At least we made it to the oral surgeon’s on time. And, dare we add, ouch.