The airport

When you're asked to do the worst favor

"Will you drive me to the airport?” — the most dreaded words you'll ever hear as a college student. 

They're your friend, you can't just say no, but their flight leaves at 6 a.m. They need you to be ready to go at three in the morning. You don't want to. But alas, you can't become their enemy now.

"Sure," you say with instant regret. Who needs sleep anyway? You can't just abandon your friend to an early morning Uber. You'll have to make due.

The day arrives to take them to the airport. You drag yourself out of bed 5 minutes before you have to leave. It's just an hour's drive to the airport, and sweatpants are your new best friend — at least better than the one making you drive to the airport.

Your friend loads their suitcase and hops into the front seat — yes, hops. They are energized and excited to go on their grand adventure home. You wonder how much caffeine and sugar they must've consumed to literally be bouncing in their seat so early in the morning.

You’re still half asleep and roll your eyes as you turn on the radio and pull out of the parking lot. It’s “I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles).” Your friend starts singing along. You love your friend, but singing is not their strong suit. You try changing the station. It’s “Party in the USA.” Your friend still sings along. You suddenly wonder if you can run your car into a ditch on the side of the road. Who would be in the mood to sing — or in this case to screech — to music after that? Only a crazy person would have the audacity. But looking over at your friend, you could swear you see the crazy in their eyes. It’s not worth the risk.

You turn off the radio. But it’s too little too late. Now they’re humming to themselves, and when they aren’t, they’re asking a ton of ridiculous questions. Then you see it: the signs to the airport. You’re almost there, and as a bonus, you can ask for silence so you can concentrate without being rude.

You make it to the drop-off zone. They get out and unload the car. They pause to look at you. “What do I owe you?” Yikes. You obviously deserve compensation for the actual torture you just experienced.

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” No, you didn’t mean it! They smile and leave. You now understand what true misery is as you pull away from the airport.

By: Lacey Stecker