Five hours in an airport waiting lounge

The first hour
she wouldn't talk to me.
The car broke down
and we missed our flight.
It's all your fault,
she said.

The second hour
she disappeared round the shops
leaving me sulking with our bags,
coming back with coffee and bagels.
Peace offering,
she said.

The third hour
she fell asleep in my lap
on the floor of the waiting lounge,
to the envy of all male travellers.
Your make a good pillow,
she said.

The fourth hour
we sneaked inside a cleaning cupboard
and made good use of the time
by necking like teenagers.
Don't stop there,
she said.

During the fifth hour
our flight was called
as she dragged me out the door.
Don't you want to catch it?
I asked.
Lets get a room,
she said.