Positives

I've been meaning to write about this for a long time. The most wonderful thing has happened. I know this is out of character, and you normally tune in to hear me howl in disgust for a few hundred words. Well, I'm happy. Ecstatic even. A few weeks ago, I was having a drink with Stockton, who often send dispatches from the airport to keep me abreast of current developments. It turns out there has been an excellent twist. The Company, that vicious, blood-sucking beast that took my youth and my hairline, is on death row. The airport want it out, and have not renewed the contract. They have until May. I can't help but think they deserve it. Of course, Stockton will lose his job. I looked worried for him.
"Are you going to be OK?" I asked.
"Of course I am," he chortled. "This is the only way I would ever be able to leave that place!" It's true. He was stuck and, come May, he will be a free man.
I almost wish I was there to see the chubby face of The Manager quiver in grief as her empire is overthrown. My loathing of her has not diminished over the months, and she deserves everything she gets. But if history is any kind of marker, she'll land on her feet and go on to bully some other under-paid people elsewhere.
While I am happy at this development as it feels as if it is correct (morally, ethically, well, in every kind of way), I also have a twinge of sadness. I did have some good times there, and met some excellent people. We were brought together with our shared misery and made the best of the situation... Oh well.

For some reason I've been noticing positives everywhere this past few weeks. After my misery of a bus journey not so long ago, I took the train. I was sitting, enjoying the smooth ride and plenty of leg room, when a little girl and her mother sat down opposite. The little girl began singing. It was a beautiful song, that moved me, and it was bizarrely complex. As far as I could tell, it was about a seagull laying eggs in a nest and the girl chasing the seagull away, but keeping the eggs warm. It went on, and at one point a squirrel was involved. I was fascinated and the mother and daughter looked extremely carefree and happy. It was the mirror-image of the bus, and I felt that the train has the right conditions for humanity to flourish. But then the ticket collector came and rummaged around pornographically in a low-slung, crotch-level bumbag for my change. It really was disgusting, and I felt obliged to spend said change on anti-bacterial wipes, very quickly.

Finally, I have just returned from the dentist. She declared that an x-ray was needed and I nodded dumbly as she positioned this big, white gun over my face and scurried out of the room. She scrubbed my teeth raw while we waited for the film to be developed and when the assistant (dental nurse?) brought it in, my dentist looked at it and frowned.
"I'm jealous," she said melodramatically. "You have wonderful teeth." She then smiled and I felt uncomfortable. Aren't dentists meant to make you feel like crap for not taking care of yourself? It was the wrong dynamic and, God knows, I'm more comfortable with stereotypes...