The steady mechanical chant of the escalators echoed in the cavernous loft, peacefully separated from the hustle and bustle on the other side of the automatic doors. Endless shades of glossy grey soothed my weary eyes as I ascended, leaning heavily against the climbing handrail. I still had ten hours to go on my epic journey home, but at least the comfortable chairs and complimentary alcohol of the premium lounge offered merciful respite for nearly four of them.
Half a dozen steps up ahead, the pretentious chatter of Corporate Barbie and her Ken doll grated more than it should. Fatigue and the last of my patience was no match for the thoughtful nods and pursed lips that accompanied the fruitless preparation of their impending business trip. I couldn't help but role my eyes. These over-educated twenty-somethings were all the same.
From what I could make out from the curve of her skirt, however, , the young brunette did seem to have a nice ass. I wasn't quite old enough to be her father, but still too old. I sniffed the smirk off my face as I fished my boarding pass and membership card from my breast pocket.
When we reached the top, the go-getters strode off the escalator ahead of me and clopped off to the right. They waved their credentials at the reception staff in a well-practiced gesture, gaining unfettered entry through the frosted glass doors. I followed close behind, mimicking the manoeuvre and hoping for a similar result.
"Excuse me, Sir," a curt female voice challenged from behind the black desk. "Can I please see your boarding pass?"
I threw my head back with a groan, exasperated. I should have known I was never going to make it. My short-sleeve, check shirt and black cargo pants didn't fit in with the sleek corporate uniforms of my fellow high flyers. To say nothing of my white cane.
I started towards the desk, but quickly became entangled in the rope line marking out a small queuing area. Black nylon ribbon strung from black pedestals on a black floor: I had no chance of seeing it. But truth be told, I hadn't fared any better with the black barriers against the white floors downstairs at check-in. At least I didn't knock any over this time.
The fierce independence that had led me to rebuff an escort up to the lounge only minutes earlier evaporated with the last of my pride. Defeated, I stood rooted to the spot. My shoulders slumped with a sigh, and I slowly closed my eyes in surrender.
An urgent clip of heels on the shiny floor trotted out from behind the desk. "Here, let me help you." The voice was huskier than the first, and much younger.
I handed over my documents with a tired smile. She slipped them from my left hand and gently guided me a couple of steps away from the barrier. As she took a second to review my details, I couldn't help but notice the delicate scent of her perfume. It was intoxicating.
"Mr Hawke, you're travelling with us on Five-Seven-Seven to Perth?" she half croaked.
"Yeah, at twelve-fifty." I held my watch up to my nose, still not believing it had only just gone eight o'clock.
"Is there anything I can do to assist you while you're here?" she offered.
I hesitated a moment before answering, "Actually, yeah, thanks. I haven't been here before. If you could show me around a bit, that would be great."
"Of course I can," she beamed, swivelling in beside me to face the entrance. "Would you like to take my arm, Mr Hawke?"
I didn't need to of course, but I wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to grab hold of this lovely young woman. "Oh, thank you," I smiled, tentatively taking her proffered elbow. I was immediately struck with the tactile sensation of her smooth skin, and the slender muscle tone of her arm. "And please, call me Will."
"Okay, Will," she giggled as we set off through the frosted glass doors. "My name's Anna."
"Lovely to meet you, Anna," I gushed, making an extra effort to swing my cane so that I looked the part. Any excuse to keep a hold of her.
I was sure Anna noticed my less than honourable attention. Her bold red lipstick betrayed her smile, but she otherwise didn't respond as she led me through.
The shiny, dark floor continued into the lounge proper, with countless settings of low, black couches. A sparse scattering of business suits squeaked in their leather seats as they furrowed their brows at their Financial Reviews on our way past. Others up ahead, silhouetted by the floor to ceiling windows, fussed about clinking crockery and operating percolating machinery at the self-serve coffee bar off to the right.
"Um..." Anna struggled to find the words, "Do you mind if I ask how much you can see? Ah, I mean, you're partially sighted, right?"
"Yeah," I smiled warmly back at her. People were often awkward when asking me about my disability, so I always made the effort to put them at ease. "I can see a bit, mainly just shapes and bright colours. You know, high contrast?"
"Uh-huh," she breathed, genuinely interested.
"All this dark furniture on a dark floor..." I cocked my head back at the leather couches. "It's really hard to see. But up close though, I can make out a lot more detail."
"So, can you see me?" She stopped as we came to a junction where the black leather area opened out onto an enormous space that seemed to run the full length of the terminal.
Keeping my attention on her, rather than the impressive architecture, I let go of her elbow. It suddenly dawned on me that I was only ever asked that question by younger women. I was too tired at that moment to figure out what it actually meant, and just answered, "Yeah. I can tell you have short blonde hair, and you're wearing a white top..." My eyes scanned down her nicely curved body. "And a navy blue skirt. Although, it might be dark grey..."
"No, you were right," she jumped in, with a smile in her slightly cracking voice. "My skirt's French navy."
"Hmmm." I looked up at her face to see her carefully studying me, and continued, "And you've got a pink scarf."
"Actually it's fuchsia," she teased.
"Yeah, I'm a guy," I scoffed. "There's no such thing as fuchsia. There's just pink."
Anna laughed and playfully touched my forearm. "You're terrible."
