Typos
Things happen. A family emergency left us stuck in Colorado for four more days than planned (and is also why this blog was MIA last week!) Luckily, everyone is okay, and, all things considered, everything is fine. It could’ve been way worse! But, in the midst of the stress and confusion, as my husband rebooked our flights, he mistyped my name, an error we only noticed on the train ride to the airport. There it was, on my boarding pass: JAMIE BUTKE.
As far as typos go, this one also could’ve been worse—not quite as bad as the time I wrote, in a cover letter, that I was excited to “apple” for the role (I’m hardworking and detail-oriented!) The problem was easily remedied, though it did require waiting in an unexpected line to talk with a representative from Southwest—a diversion that took mere 20-ish minutes but had me imagining missed flights or a desperate run to the terminal that left me with zero time to pee before boarding (true nightmare). I’m generally level-headed when it comes to airline-caused delays, but something about being in a line gets me all worked up — just ask the French equivalent of the TSA at DeGaulle (LE SAC SONT DÉJÀ FERMER, AVEZ-VOUS LES YEUX????????????).
While we waited and afterward, we wondered: Who is Jamie Butke? She probably lives outside of Minneapolis and works in HR. She definitely has a small dog, and that dog has an Instagram. She calls herself a boy mom. Her kid’s name is something like “Cody.” She’s a church-every-Sunday Protestant, not a lapsed Irish Catholic.
What if I Googled Jamie Butke? Did she really exist? No, we agreed, it was more fun to decide for ourselves. A Disney adult. Super into Hamilton. Played field hockey in college. We still had like two hours before our flight anyways.