Niceland
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“Let me see if I understand this correctly,” I said to Darius. “You may have a real job for next year in Iceland?”
“That’s right, Dad. But I have already accepted a temporary position at U. Cal, Channel Islands, for the fall semester so I’ll have to…”
“But the Iceland job pays…”
“… eight times more…”
“…. and covers the…
“… entire academic year. It’s a shame that I already accepted the other job.”
“Un-accept, Dar.”
“But…”
Details about the Iceland prospect oozed out during follow-up discussions. The faculty position is remote: Frigid University (FU) is conveniently located north of the Artic Circle in a town named Desolation (population 3). And it is 25 minutes from the nearest petrol station. On the positive side, Darius’ salary would include snowmobile access. As I explained these niceties to Nazy, she suggested that we visit Darius.
“Iceland? You want to go to Iceland?” I asked.
“We went to California...”
I’m sure Darius wants to see us; he may be lonely.” Nazy was not moved by my picturesque weather analysis.
“If you think he’s lonely now, wait until he takes the job in …”
Naturally we decided to go. Subsequently, a comprehensive internet search resulted in flight and hotel bookings. Unfortunately, however:
“We have a very early departure from Zürich,” I explained.
“No problem, Dan.” Nazy replied. “you will just get up early.”
I was so astonished that the word “early” was in Nazy’s vocabulary that I failed to note that she didn’t say that she would get up ‘early’. As a result, on departure day, I was ready at the agreed time.
“I’m ready, too, Dan.” Nazy said.
“You’re not dressed.” I replied. “Can I close your suitcase?”
“Not yet. I need to…”
“I’ll bring the car around,” I replied.
Later, I left the car idling in the driveway and went back upstairs to check on progress.
“We can’t go yet, Dan. I need to write a note to Erica.”
“You explained everything to Erica last night…”
“And I have to water the plants and empty the dryer…”
“I’ve already watered the plants and…”
“You probably over-watered. I have to check.”
“We really have to go, Nazy,” I said, looking at my watch – again.
“You’re always rushing, Dan.” Nazy replied.
“Only when I travel with you,” I thought. “I rush for both of us, my dear.” I said.
When we finally arrived at the airport, the British Air ticket counter was closed. We found a supervisor having coffee and..”
“You’re on the 7:55AM flight?” The supervisor was incredulous. “I don’t think you’ll make it. Departure is from Gate E-58. You’ll have to run. You have five minutes. Don’t wait at passport control! Go to the front of the line at the security checkpoint! Hurry!”
“Can you tell them we’re coming?” Nazy asked.
“They can see that,” the supervisor replied. “But they will not wait.”
We dashed off. Even Nazy was moving with (some) alacrity. Security agents insisted on hand checking both of our carry-ons. I was breathing hard when we got to the gate. Nazy, strolling languidly, arrived thereafter.
“They aren’t even boarding.” Nazy noted. “Why do you always make me rush?”
The flight to Niceland was smooth. Nazy and I took time during lengthy layover at Heathrow to discuss the trip.
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