Muscle Camp - Chapter 2: Terminal Error
"That'll be fifty bucks..."
That was the last thing Mike heard the tiger tell him before stepping out of the airport taxi; but sigh as he might and despite leaving him with nothing more than his last five bucks, the cheetah fished through his wallet, paid off the cabbie and shut the car door. With nothing but the sight and sound of the cab now driving off into nothing but a fresh memory, Mike picked up his duffel and ventured forth towards the terminal.
It wasn't really what he had expected, as he had never been to a small charter airport before. The place was really nothing more than an up to date building that stood two stories at most, with a parking lot large enough to fit a hundred cars at best. The entire airfield aside from the hangars and few passenger jets (the largest of which were only two 727's), only a short distance from the chainlink fence that seperated it from the small parking lot, appeared vacant and inactive. Either way however it was still an airport and the typical sights, sounds and smells that abound from the ticket only side of the terminal, helped to remind him of that until he finally made it to the entrance, stepped foot through the sliding glass doors and ventured forth.
Despite the apparent inactivity outside of the terminal, the inside was a completely different story as the entire waiting area was just teeming with other anthros. Anthro canine to be specific, but it was hard to tell who was who and what was what through the see of bodies and the loud chatter that was going on from the high quantity of small social pockets of conversations. Either way, he was bound and determined to get to the line and make it onto his flight as he made a rather slow bee line straight for what he figured was the start of it.
The cheetah frowned a bit nervously and hunched over a little as he clutched his duffel close and tight to his chest; pushing his way from the entrance of the terminal waiting area to the tail end of the line. It felt as if he was in what could best be described as a cross between one of Salt Lick City's busiest night clubs and a gym as every dog he passed and squeezed around looked as if they were trying to get noticed or something as they all appeared to be wearing clothes that conveniently helped to show off what they weren't allowed to show only due to the fact that if they went top or bottomless, they'd be kicked off the property.
Mike finally made his way to where he wanted to be, and that of course was finally at the end of the line. The spotty teen sighed out once again, both in relief of making it to this step as well as the uncomfortability of being surrounded by so many people in such a cramped environment. Just as the last sighing decibal past his lips, he thought to himself "Fuck... Why the hell is everyone about a paw foot taller than me, and why the hell are there so many dogs here? I can't stand dogs..."
Mike's eyes darted around the room as he kept thinking to himself, using it as a way to take comfort in the fact that at least he had his own thoughts to keep him company "Ah well, at least I got my ticket. Oh shit... I'm probably going to have work with some of these guys. Ah well, no big deal I guess. I'll just keep to myself and just hang out with anything that has a higher than dog I.Q. I just hope to god right now that nobody farts...".
As the minutes passed, the line drew closer and closer to the check in counter, and the feline stayed true to form by using his thoughts as a way of distracting that same anxiety he felt on his first day of high school, away from him "Alrighty me, an hour to go before the flight leaves, and every minute is one minute closer. This place looks like an American Idle waiting room, I swear. I mean... look at thes guys. Muscle shirts, tight jeans, and what's the deal with that dude over there with the compression shorts? Pff, now I know why I hate dogs, they're always trying to show to everyone around them'OOOF!!!"
Suddenly Mike felt himself shoved into and knocked over in the spot he was standing in. It all happened so fast and the most reaction he could give to his sudden predicament was to go wide eyed and watch the world around him tilting over, as if in slow motion as deep down inside he knew there wasn't anything he could do to save himself, he just hadn't quite realized yet that he was going to hit the ground hard. But just as that realization finally spilled over from his subconcious, the cheetah suddenly felt a strong paw clutch around his wrist, accompanied by a surprised yet masculine voice.
"Oh shit dude!" the owner of that voice exclaimed. Mike however was still in the short lived moment of crashing to the floor, only to stop briefly, his soft cheek fur only inches from the hard tile he was about to crack his head open on. Mike just paused there, wondering just why his morning kept getting worse and wondering for a split second whether or not this moment was going to end, or if he really just fatally cracked his head open and that this is what the afterlife was: left to forever stare sideways at dog butts.
The owner of that paw however saw to it that the floor was no place for a cheetah, and easily pulled the spotty teen back up to his feet. Mike regained his footing and straightened himself back up before turning to the helpful stranger, chuckling softly to himself as he spoke out "Uh, heh thanks for saving my..." only to pause as his muzzle came to rest between the helpful stranger's pecs before turning his eyes up to see that the generosity that had just passed belonged to that of a doberman. Mike's gratitude and thankful smile quickly faded off into nothingness as he remembered he was still surrounded by canines before finishing the rest of his sentence, knowing that it was still at least the descent thing to do "...butt...".
The doberman however that initially redeemed himself from bumping into the shorter male rubbed the back of his sleek neck and smiled somewhat bashfully "Heh yeah sorry about that guy. I just got in and thought I was gonna miss my spot in line". He himself wasn't really dressed to impress. Sure, he had quite the build on him. The muscular underlay beneath the slickness of his black and tanned fur was something you'd expect to find on a Grecco Roman wrestler, but it wasn't like anyone could see it as his choice of clothing for this day was nothing more than a pair of blue jeans, his favourite bleach white button up collared shirt, polished black boots, shark's tooth necklace and his dark brown corduroy basebal style cap, tilted down of course due to those cropped dual foot long ears of his.
The dog continued on with his introduction to the smaller male, who really only stood a modest five and half feet tall, which was just a shade under a foot and a half shorter than the dobe, who smiled gently down at Mike "Hey so yeah, sorry about that. The name's Yurgin and it's my... first...." only to have the rest of whatever it was he was going to say, trail off into nothing and easily seeing Mike's disinterest in the conversation as the cheetah nodded, still a bit unimpressed as he turned to face forward once again. Yurgin however just shrugged and chuckled inside as he figured the cheetah was probably having a shitty day, since it didn't appear as if there was anyone waiting for him in the crowded terminal lounge.
Eventually as the line grew shorter and shorter, Mike finally made it to the check in counter, along with his duffel bag and ticket receipt in paw as he pulled it out of his shorts' pocket before being greeted by the well kept, professionally dressed vixen behind the counter. She had finally made it back from her coffee break, and relieved the other check in clerk from covering her as she set her coffee down on the counter.
"Hello there. Do you have your ticket receipt and I.D.?" she asked him with the same warm and professional cander that anyone in her position was expected to have.
Mike finally cracked a smile, the first smile he could say he ever had in a small charter air terminal such as this as he dropped his duffel onto the weigh scale and handing her "Heh yeah here you go..."
The vixen smiled and took both ticket receipt and license from the cheetah before sitting down at the computer to bring his information up "Okay... Mike Evans. Hmmm.... Oh! Yep here you are, you'll be on flight 85A. Your flight leaves at...."
Just before she could finish what she started, a loud CRACK silenced any and all conversation in the room. That sudden auditory assault belonging to none other than the sound of one of the baggage carts falling over in the bay just through the doors behind the check in counter. With the day the cheetah was having and the stress that came along with it, the loud sound was enough for him to jerk his arm away, only to knock the clerk's coffee over, but not before he was able to reach out and catch the cup.
Mike gasped as he feared the worst was about to happen, but amazingly thanks to his speed and reflexes that cheetahs were famous for, he was able to save most of the coffee. As for the stuff he didn't save, he was lucky that only a couple of splashes landed on the clerk's keyboard and not on her. Regardless however of how thankful he was, there was still a matter of that mess on her keyboard, and he somehow felt responsible for it, even though it really wasn't his fault; and in a mad attempt at subtlely cleaning up the mess, the cheetah blindly reached around over the other side of the counter in the hopes of finding something. To his amazemen however, he did find something. He wasn't sure exactly what it was, but none the less it had the texture of a soft wash cloth and that was all he needed to quickly dab at the wet mess, and the keyboard linked to his destiny. He knew he wasn't going to get all of it, but either way he did his best to cover up any tracks, just in time for him to stop what he was doing as the vixen turned back around in her chair.
"...phew. Well that sure beats coffee now doesn't it? Okay mister Evans, I'll print your ticket off and you'll be leaving on flight 85B".
The flight clerk scratched the back of her head briefly as she spoke out again "Hmm... I thought it was 85A. Oh well, it says 85B so I guess I must have read it wrong earlier. Anyways, your flight leaves at 9 am. Have a nice flight mister Evans"
Mike blushed and nodded as she smiled at him, before finding a the thinnest part of the crowd and just waited to hear what he finally wanted to hear over the terminal's PA system "May I have your attention please. Flight eighty five bravo is now ready for departure." and that's all it took to get the cheetah smiling again as he began lining up with all of the other males to get on board that plane he's been looking forward to boarding ever since he got hired on for the new job.