I Am Seymour Skinner

Today is the traditional day where I take my parents to the airport, then spend the night going to one of my favorite stripclubs.  Not today.

There was a snowstorm today.  Meteorologists overpromised and underdelivered; there was maybe two inches of snow falling in the areas I drove, but it was the fact that it was occuring in the afternoon and evening, the peak driving and flying times of the busiest travel day of the year, that made its impact so dangerous.

My parents' flight was delayed by 2 1/2, maybe 3 hours.  When Father called me about the news, I didn't know what to do because I didn't know if they were going to stay put at work or go home, so I drove to the mall closest to downtown.  From there I drove home because they decided to go home; what usually is a 15-20 minute drive took 45 in the driving snow.

I don't like it when I lie, because it's obvious.  But neither do I like it when I'm asked to do things I don't want to do.  I was hanging out at my parents' desktop when My Father, who was getting dressed to leave for the airport, told me to go directly home from the airport.  So I gave him the one word that most conveys that you're going to do the opposite: "Sure."

Not as if I could pull off that lie.  I intended to bring my bookbag because it had a few things I was going to use that night: my day planner, which had alternate directions to the stripclub I was going to go to later that evening; the money I was going to use at said stripclub; and the medicine I'm taking for this study.  I feel bad for showing Father the bag (in the car right as we're leaving instead of inside the house, otherwise he would tell me to leave my bag at home) because that meant I was openly lying to him.  But hey, he cleaned my room in February, so this is a little bit of payback.

Neither Father nor Mother made too big a stink about it on the drive down to the airport, so naturally I start to feel guilty about it.  Mother asked me to go home from the airport too.  But I tried to justify it by saying that I didn't know if the flight was going to be delayed further, so I'll just stick close by (the Mall of America is, like, five minutes away) in case they delay it till tomorrow.  That actually is a smart idea.  It hasn't happened yet, but it could, and I would do such a thing if it could possibly occur next time.

So we get to the airport and I tell Father to call me as soon as they're about to board, and then I'll go home.  I then go to MOA guilt-free.

I wait till about a half-hour before their departure time before I decide to call Father.  Usually passengers board 30 minutes before the scheduled departure time, right?  He says the plane isn't there yet, but will be soon.  So now I'm starting to think that I'll seize a pyrrhic victory: I'll be justified in not going straightaway home and thus proving my parents wrong, yet I won't be able to sneak away and see an All-Time Favorite at One Of My Favorite Stripclubs.

Finally, about 15 minutes later, Mother calls me on her husband's cell: We're boarding, so you can go home now.  I hear her pleas without actually listening.  But then, she lays down the trump card to get me to go back to the house: She says "please."  Now, she could've been really concerned for my safety on the roads (which weren't too bad because the snow stopped falling some time in the evening and the roads had been treated well beforehand) or she just wanted me to do what Father said.  But when she said "please" -- well, how can I refuse my mom when she says that?

Seriously, I couldn't.  She sounded really concerned for my safety.  And if I can't heed her implorations (is that a word?) to do something I really don't want to do, how can I ask someone else to do the same?  Besides, the money I had with me for the club was roughly the amount I had to pay for the new mirror glass, which was installed this afternoon, just before I was going to the store to pick my parents up.  I heed a warning if there are two or more conspiring factors that seem to suggest to me to do or not do something.

So I decide to come home.  Well, I decide not to go the stripclub.  But I didn't drive home immediately.  I was hungry, so I went to eat at Hooters, where I stayed for two hours.  And then I hurried home as soon as I could.  A flight from MSP to Vegas is about 3 hours, so if they got on board at 8, they'd reach the airport at 11 Central.  I could totally see them getting to the arrival gate and, even before peeing (which they really want to do after disembarking from a plane), reach for the phone and call home to ask Grandmother if I'm there.  I didn't need that, so I hauled ass.  But not before calling Grandmother myself and asking her that, if they do call home, to lie and say that I got home at 9 and is in bed (when Mother called me I told her I was napping in the car).  No worries; I got home at 11 and they didn't call.

Oh, and I still might go to the stripclub anyway.  It's just that I wouldn't have the ability to sleep in like I do tomorrow/today.  And just because Mother asked me not to stay out late.