Dear Jane Midway,

midway5.jpg

Dear Midway,

I hate to do it like this. You and I started with such fervor. Such energy. Such on-time-ness. It was amazing at first. You were young. You weren’t concerned with “rules” or “check-in” or “service”. It was great to just dash in, get what I needed, and leave.

But then… You got older. But that was OK – as you got older, my needs changed. I needed a Potbelly that brewes Starbucks. I needed to walk 13 minutes to get to my gate. I needed to have TVs that barely get a signal and bad subtitling that more resembles expletives from an Andy Capp cartoon.

You and I grew together. It was magical. It was… special. And soon, you were instrumental in my life. I was going in all sorts of directions, and you were there at every turn. But things became… weird. Your flights started getting later and later. Soon, you would lose my stuff, and never call me back when you found it. One time, you even got me sick from “Lalo’s”. (Sure, sure, some of you may blame ME for eating there in the first place, but Midway vouched for the quality of food there…). Soon….. you stopped caring.

Instead of mutual pleasure, our relationship became one of conveinence. You used me for my money, I used you for your services. You tried, you added a covered parking garage… but in the end… It just stopped being worth it. You treated me like everyone else – jammed into an el train to head back into the city that just sat there for 9 minutes before leaving. Refusing to open another security checkpoint line when the lines were toooooo long. Stopping me when I didn’t mention to “your people” that I was wearing an insulin pump. You didn’t care before that I was a diabetic… so why now?

Well now, the conveinence is over. My wife is coming home this weekend. And right now, as I sit in your “Terminal B”, waiting for my final flight to Philadelphia, I think fondly back to the times we shared, and think to myself,

Maybe someday I’ll come back. Aw heck, I probably will, but it will never be the same between us, and if you think differently, your fooling yourself.

Farewell Midway. Hello Sheila!

Fondly,
Stephen

midway5.jpg

Dear Midway,

I hate to do it like this. You and I started with such fervor. Such energy. Such on-time-ness. It was amazing at first. You were young. You weren’t concerned with “rules” or “check-in” or “service”. It was great to just dash in, get what I needed, and leave.

But then… You got older. But that was OK – as you got older, my needs changed. I needed a Potbelly that brewes Starbucks. I needed to walk 13 minutes to get to my gate. I needed to have TVs that barely get a signal and bad subtitling that more resembles expletives from an Andy Capp cartoon.

You and I grew together. It was magical. It was… special. And soon, you were instrumental in my life. I was going in all sorts of directions, and you were there at every turn. But things became… weird. Your flights started getting later and later. Soon, you would lose my stuff, and never call me back when you found it. One time, you even got me sick from “Lalo’s”. (Sure, sure, some of you may blame ME for eating there in the first place, but Midway vouched for the quality of food there…). Soon….. you stopped caring.

Instead of mutual pleasure, our relationship became one of conveinence. You used me for my money, I used you for your services. You tried, you added a covered parking garage… but in the end… It just stopped being worth it. You treated me like everyone else – jammed into an el train to head back into the city that just sat there for 9 minutes before leaving. Refusing to open another security checkpoint line when the lines were toooooo long. Stopping me when I didn’t mention to “your people” that I was wearing an insulin pump. You didn’t care before that I was a diabetic… so why now?

Well now, the conveinence is over. My wife is coming home this weekend. And right now, as I sit in your “Terminal B”, waiting for my final flight to Philadelphia, I think fondly back to the times we shared, and think to myself,

Maybe someday I’ll come back. Aw heck, I probably will, but it will never be the same between us, and if you think differently, your fooling yourself.

Farewell Midway. Hello Sheila!

Fondly,
Stephen

blog