I'm With the Beatles

Don't Pass Me By

The train ride lasted two hours, which was a little quicker than last time. We left the train station only to find a nice, long limousine. I produced a tall stretch and fell into the big seat in the back. It didn't seem as if we ever got to Carnegie Hall quick enough: the traffic was unbearable.

"What's going on out there?" John hollered towards the front of the limo.

Murray the K answered, "It's Abe Lincoln's birthday commemmoration! There's thousands of people out on the roads. Don't worry, I'll get us a taxi!"

We all scrambled out of the huge vehicle and waited for the yellow taxi.

"Squeeze in, men," Murray laughed as we five packed ourselves in the back seat like sardines in a can. He and Mal sat up front with the driver.

I was squished between Paul and Ringo. John was pushed up against the opposite door with George sitting halfway on his lap.

"Whatever ye do, George, don't ye dare pass wind," John warned with a slight gasp.

"I'll try not to, but I'm not promising anything!"

Ringo smiled at me as I looked over to the ensuing rumble. He placed his hand on my arm again and gently smoothed the sleeve of my dress.

"Don't get too comfy, Ringo," Paul cautioned. He drew me closer to his chest in an attempt to discourage his pal.

My face was mere inches from his now and the air inside the car cavity started to get stuffy. This triggered Paul's horrific coughing fit. What's worse is that his expelled carbon dioxide blew into my face. I choked back my discomfort.

"Sorry, love! It's that damn ciggy I smoked earlier," he apologized with remorse in putting someone that he loved in so much pain.

"Then...don't...smoke," I managed between coughs of my own. I soon caught a whiff of a gross scent that rose in the area.

"Ugh, what be that smell?" John cried, attempting to plug his nose.

"It wasn't me," George swore.

"Sorry..." Ringo whispered, taking his hand off of me.

"Eww, Ringo! What the bloody hell?!" Paul griped, trying to control his mouth from opening, but the coughs worsened.

"Gotta love them jellies," Ringo giggled behind his hat that now covered his nose.

"What's with you and jelly?" I prodded.

"Jelly makes me belly a happy felly!"

We all shared a chuckle as the taxi stopped in front of the Plaza Hotel.

"'ello, old bed," George greeted with arms outstretched. The room appeared to be the exact same as in which we left it this morning. It was as if we were going ninety-to-nothing is this country. The big mattress welcomed me again as I sat down and folded my legs.

"Here's yer stuff," Mal shouted as he gently placed the bags on the floor. He gave me a quick wave before he left.

"It's so nice to see ye getting along with the old chap," Paul observed with acceptance.

"Yeah, I gotta be nice to Mal. He protects me from all the stupid stuff that I seem to be getting into a lot recently!"

Paul grinned and wrapped his arms around my waist. I held his stubbly face in my grasp and we both shared a small, but loving, kiss.