Tagging Along
Riding the T By Myself
Ideas. So many ideas. Hiking Antelope Canyon. Beach combing in Big Sur. Pasta carbonara in Rome. Nope. Nope. Nope.
Boston. Yay…Boston. Rainy and rather gloomy in early spring.
Spring break was coming, and we had options. For weeks, I’d been texting Mike TikToks of glowy destinations. As usual, we were slow to decide. About two weeks before the break, he said, “What do you think about Boston?” He had a consulting project that required him to be there in person for a few days.
“Why not,” I thought. Who needs the sun or fresh pasta? I like Boston. We’d tack on a few days in New York City as an extra treat.
Four days before the trip, we finally got serious. Then reality intervened, we decided it made more sense to spend time with Mike’s mom rather than galivanting in NYC. We bought plane tickets and the held our mail.
Spring break would be a week of me “tagging along.”
Most of our travel is kicked off by me. I get an inspiration, send Mike photos and videos, maybe get a book from the library, and eventually he warms up. I don’t railroad him exactly, it’s more that he’s a slow burn, and I deploy a mix of marketing skills and feminine wiles to get things moving.
But sometimes we take a trip that’s his. On those trips, I’m the passenger. Mike sets the schedule, the locations, the logistics. Boston would be one of those.
I enjoy all trips, but the ones where I am tagging along can be harder for me. I could have stayed home, but the lure of art museums, old friends, and a swanky hotel are my catnip, so I was in. Besides, I like to maintain the illusion that I’m flexible.
So, off to Boston we went.
I imagined “together time” when Mike wasn’t working. Instead, within minutes of our flight leaving Madison, Mike fired up his laptop to work. On the flight, Mike worked the entire time. No shared crossword, no idle chatter. Once we landed, we visited his mom, had dinner with his brother, and then he worked the rest of the night. Even when we were side by side, he was somewhere else, deep in work, or thinking about his mom, or focused on the project. I quickly realized I’d mostly be on my own, even when we were technically together.
I love Mike’s his passion for technology and teaching, his dedication, his sense of responsibility. Unfortunately (and somewhat pathetically), I also get cranky when I feel sidelined.
Which is exactly what happened.
I got pouty.
Mike felt guilty.
Then I felt guilty that he felt guilty.
We had a talk. The same one we’ve had about 72 times over the past 33 years.
And as happens with this particular repeated talk, I stopped and thought: What the heck am I thinking? I have four days in a great city with absolutely no obligations. No meetings. No schedule. No one needing anything from me. I can do whatever the f**k I want to.
So I did.
I had lazy mornings in a fancy hotel. Ordered room service…twice. Did some painting and writing. Saw three old friends. Wandered through museums and galleries. Roamed funky neighborhoods. Rode the T like a local.
Each night, Mike and I met up for dinner, sometimes just us, sometimes with friends. The weather stayed mostly gray and rainy, but with a good jacket and an umbrella, it didn’t feel that dreary.
And honestly? I had a pretty great time. Although I was tagging along on Mike’s trip I found my own version of it.
As for Mike, his project went well. He enjoyed the work, learned new things, and came away feeling satisfied. And even though I was a bit of a pain in the ass, especially at the beginning, he says he’s glad I came.
In the end, we both got what we needed, him, a meaningful week of work, and me, a reminder that I’m pretty good company on my own.
Great story! I love your writing!
I love that you share all the ups and downs. It's travel, psychology, and relationship therapy all wrapped up together. I have a friend who travels by herself quite often, and I'm always inspired by her adventures.