There Will Always Be Some People

I was living on the second floor, in the two bedroom apartment and by myself. I did not want a roommate. I simply felt that I needed the time alone when I was in the base. I was flying more than a hundred hours every month and I was exhausted. The experience of visiting so many different countries and cultures in matter of days was priceless. I was soaking in all the flavors and lived for the new adventure. When I returned to the base in Amman, Jordan, all I wanted was a hot shower and a good night sleep. Each month I would get the three consecutive days off. That was barely enough time to get anything done, except to shower, sleep, eat, prepare the uniform for the next flight and return to the airport. My personal life was non-existent. I did not seem to care, as I loved to travel. I was lucky to have my dream job that took me places. My work was my life.
That morning, I returned from a long lay-over in Colombo, Sri Lanka. It was hot and humid in Colombo. My crew was not inspiring and I was actually bored for the first time. I could not wait to get back to the base. I climbed up the stairs to my apartment and felt really hungry. I thought I would take a shower and walk down to the local market, called Souk. I did not have a drinking water. I turned the shower faucet. It was dead. Not a single drop.
My landlord was a well knows businessman, with a wife and four children, who was madly in love with every stewardess in his apartment complex. Of course, as a smart girl, I turned down his invitations and his appearances at my door at midnight hour, with the Jack Daniels in his hand. There was a price to pay. I would occasionally run out of water, such as that day when I returned from Sri Lanka. I would occasionally find a rat in my bath tab, which was deliberately placed there by his Egyptian house keeper. How did I know? I recognized the victory smile on his face when he finally appeared to help me remove the rat. What could I do? If I complained it would not make the difference. I was paying for my disobedience, they thought. Soon the next trip would come, and I no longer cared. I learned that there would always be some people who tried to make my life miserable. For a short moment, they succeeded. I picked my battles. Not so long after, I found myself in a much better place.

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Note: This story is fictional and may not represent the opinion of the author.

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