that maybe she could accompany me to a bar at dubai airport and keep me co between flights? Could not hurt to ask. Of course I knew she was probably hit on by at least half a dozen guys per flight so my brain began to scan for a fresh appeal. Soon we were off into the sky and the once loud baby was snoring peacefully, no, blissfully in mommy's arms. as blondie came by slinging a pack of nuts I asked her wheterher she was in SF often.
"all the time, but usually all I have time for s to sleep."
She flashed an 18 carrat diamond ring into my face quickly and uninvasively as possible keeping her
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
Thursday, April 24, 2014
I HAD BEEN WAITING FOR THE EMAIL. IT ARRIVED WITH THE ITINERARY. EMIRATES AIRLINES. THE COLOR CODED LINES WITH FLIGHT NUMBERS, ARRIVAL AND DEPARTURE TIMES AND MY NAME JOSEPH TANJI GAVE ME A RUSH. BUT WAS IT CONFIRMED? YES. SEE THERE ON THE RIGHT. IT SAYS IT. “CONFIRMED.” I SHAKE MY HEAD IN DISBELIEF. IT DOESN’T EVEN SEEM REAL - REALLY, I’LL BELIEVE IT WHEN I’M ON THE PLANE IN TWO DAYS. WHAT WILL I EVEN DO IN TWO DAYS? PACK? BUY STUFF I NEED TO BRING WITH ME? ALL I REALLY NEED IS ONE OF THOSE TRAVEL WALLETS TO STASH MY PASSPORT AND MONEY IN. I’M NOT GONNA GET SHOTS. FUCK THAT- THOSE HURT MORE THAN PROTECT.
So it was happening . No more stops and starts. In wo days from today, i’d be up in the clouds. I started punching the aire in elation before falling back onto my bed and staring at the celing. It had been a long time since I had gone anywhere exciting. I was ready. “I’m gonna travel light,” I thought. More luggage more problems. Every one would call me crazy. “all you’re bringing is one backpack? I could’t live without my stuff!” The way I saw it, clothes were affordable in India- so was anything else you may need : toothpaste,shampoo. Hell, I don’t even need shampoo. I’d probably just shave my head. It was happening! But first there was someone very important I needed to call.
“Mom, I’m going. To India.”
“Congratulations, that’s great. I knew you were waiting on the that Visa.” She gave her motherly advi ce about being careful. My mind jumped ahead to a few things I needd to do. Like get a wallet/ passport holder at some sporting goods store where of course the salesman would upsell me on a portable water filter which eventually would become more of a paper weight as I couldn’t contemplate carrying it around with me to restaurants and the like. More tasks to complete: tennis and packing.
On the day of the flight my brother dropped me at third and heatherton from where I could get a golden gate transit to SF than take Bart to SFO. With just a backpack who knew I was even enroute to India?
My flight was at 445 and it was before noon. I had hours to kill. I promptly got into the Emirate line. I soon noticed a chaplinesque man of middle east descent, setting down a rugged suitcase in front of two men with turbans. Next thing I know he was gone. Than I see him standing with some other dude out side talking on his cell phone.
“what the hell is he doing”
He comes back and puts his suitcase over the line. It’s than right in back of me. Is it gonna blow up? Than he comes and stands by his bag right in back of me as if he had been there the whole time. The mild mannered crowd presented nobody inclined to do anything about this situation. Some looked slightly perturbed but not enought to actually do anything about it. I reckon to myself that security had relaxed latley. a few years ago if he’d left that bag unattended he’d have been arrsted. Now the TSa was too busy confiscating bottled water, toothpaste, and old laidies bras. I contemplated making a scene but opted instead to push headphones in my ear to hear Joe Strummer’s jolly vitriol vi combat rocks’atom tan in my ear. “The state office looked, it looked like hollywood- without make up bleeding- all over the cracks......”
The line went fast. Much faster than I’d expected actually. The music stopped. Because I had to put my phone through security screening. along w my belt, wallet, etc. and walk through biometrcis, waving arms in the air, getting the ok etc. Pretty soon it was 1 pm. I still had 3 and a half hours to kill and I was checked in already. I walked down the moving sidewalk trying to get past the crowds of people with their excess luggage. I thought about henry rollins spoken word speeche where he talks about people getting in the way on those things. It dawned on me that even though I had packed lightId be dodging around a lof of people who had not. If only others would follow my lead!
Soon I got near my gate and checked in my pocket for the bording passes. Before stuffing them into my wallet i gave them a quick glance to make sure I was going in the right direction. I’d be leaving at 445 pm and arriving 720 the next night in Dubai- than onto a 2 and a half hour layover before flying to Rajiv Ghandi airport arriving the followong morning around 3 am. I wondered what i’d be doing at 3 am. I’d received an email that a mr. Soupreet would be picking me up at 6 am. I doubted that it would take mre than an hour to recieve the guitar I’d checked.
at that point it didn’t really matter. I was getting out of the rat race. Or was I exchanging one for the other? Hard to say t this point. all i knew was now I was at the right gate, 3 hours early, and bloody tired. I closed my eyes and drifteed off to sleep. My thoughts turned to a previous trip to india it was years earlier when i was 19 years old. I rememberarriving in such a different kind of land which such a shock to the system that it served as an infrmal altered state and delivered me from a world of worries which had dogged my teenage brain. at the same time i was so young. Even though I was in a world of hope I was also had a hunger. My taste of chai for the first time in the cavern hafl way between chennai and pondicherri was just hot enought to where it didn’t burn my toungue yet i still had to sip slowly. The inneepers nodded with otherworldy politeness as an in american in my caravan explained that odd as it was, it would be common to have hot drinks in the hundred degree weather, somehow evening out the body temperature. I loved the taste of the chai and didn’t care that it was creating beads of sweat that were so dense that they poured off of me like rain drops onto the earthen ground.
“Section G, section G, please get ready to board.” I opened my eyes and pulled my ticket out. I was section F - I quickly bolted up and threw on my backpack. There was a throng of people in what was supposed to be a line. The elite 1st classes had already boarded leaving the anxious stragglers coljoing to get in. I figured the plane would be leaving at the same time and didn’t try too hard to get head. Children were throwing tantrums along with their baby siblings who were crying. I knew it was going to be a long journey but I didn’t nind.
I MERRILY CLIMBED ABOARD THE 777. THE PILOT GREETED ME AND A PRETTY SLOVENIAN STEWARDESS WEARING A RED CAP (ALL THE STEWARDESS WORE THESE) POINTED ME TOWRDS THE ISLE I WAS TO WALK DOWN. I MADE MY WAY THROUGH FIRST CLASS WHERE THE HAPY ELITE STRETCHED OUT THEIR LEGS, LAZILY LOUNGING ABOUT WITH LAPTOPS. ONE ALREADY WAS FALLING ASLEEP WITH HIS EYEPILLOW CLUMSILY ATTACHED TO HIS FACE, LOUDLY SNORING AND BLISSFULLY OBLIVOUS OF THE OTHER PASSENGERS.
When i came to my isle who wa sitting on the seat next to mine but the chaplinesque line hopper. While his attributes were definitely attributatble to the aforementioned silent era film star, he also shared a likelihood to john turturro with a tan. He flipped his newspaper anxiously and pretended not to notice me from the check in line.
“hello sir, I believe I’m stting here. “
Without looking at me he got up and stepped in back of me, waited for me to sit, than went back to his newspapers. I wanted to ask him why he was in such a rush earlier where we had plenty of time for his flight but I was too distraced by the blonde stewardess in a british accent who brushed by me, her cute butt colliding with my elbow. I was happy to see a small sack with a zipper full of goodies waiting for me on my seat, along with a wimply pillow and some kind of scarf blanket given to keep us warm from the artificial frigidity that would soon be blowing down us via plastic sea anenome looking a/c portals.
How lovely to peek inside and snatch the contents within the little bag! a cool little toothbrush, with toothpaste in a tubular container, eyepillow, and a few other chachkes.
as a kid was moaning loudly to his mother I wondered why they didn’t include earplugs in the kit as well. Or perhaps earmuffs the likeness of what you use to shield your ears at a shooting range!
Well at least I had my clash mp3 uploaded. I could pump up the volume to hear joe strummer screaming at me louder than anybody. I know i was supposed to be listening to the airline safey presentation but instead my ears were basking in the sweet sensation of “white man at hammersmith palais.” The blonde stewardess wearily snapped her fake seat belts in the aire all the while probably dreaming of her last orgasm or martini in london, whichever was strongerst on her mind. I had a quick fantastical thought
So it was happening . No more stops and starts. In wo days from today, i’d be up in the clouds. I started punching the aire in elation before falling back onto my bed and staring at the celing. It had been a long time since I had gone anywhere exciting. I was ready. “I’m gonna travel light,” I thought. More luggage more problems. Every one would call me crazy. “all you’re bringing is one backpack? I could’t live without my stuff!” The way I saw it, clothes were affordable in India- so was anything else you may need : toothpaste,shampoo. Hell, I don’t even need shampoo. I’d probably just shave my head. It was happening! But first there was someone very important I needed to call.
“Mom, I’m going. To India.”
“Congratulations, that’s great. I knew you were waiting on the that Visa.” She gave her motherly advi ce about being careful. My mind jumped ahead to a few things I needd to do. Like get a wallet/ passport holder at some sporting goods store where of course the salesman would upsell me on a portable water filter which eventually would become more of a paper weight as I couldn’t contemplate carrying it around with me to restaurants and the like. More tasks to complete: tennis and packing.
On the day of the flight my brother dropped me at third and heatherton from where I could get a golden gate transit to SF than take Bart to SFO. With just a backpack who knew I was even enroute to India?
My flight was at 445 and it was before noon. I had hours to kill. I promptly got into the Emirate line. I soon noticed a chaplinesque man of middle east descent, setting down a rugged suitcase in front of two men with turbans. Next thing I know he was gone. Than I see him standing with some other dude out side talking on his cell phone.
“what the hell is he doing”
He comes back and puts his suitcase over the line. It’s than right in back of me. Is it gonna blow up? Than he comes and stands by his bag right in back of me as if he had been there the whole time. The mild mannered crowd presented nobody inclined to do anything about this situation. Some looked slightly perturbed but not enought to actually do anything about it. I reckon to myself that security had relaxed latley. a few years ago if he’d left that bag unattended he’d have been arrsted. Now the TSa was too busy confiscating bottled water, toothpaste, and old laidies bras. I contemplated making a scene but opted instead to push headphones in my ear to hear Joe Strummer’s jolly vitriol vi combat rocks’atom tan in my ear. “The state office looked, it looked like hollywood- without make up bleeding- all over the cracks......”
The line went fast. Much faster than I’d expected actually. The music stopped. Because I had to put my phone through security screening. along w my belt, wallet, etc. and walk through biometrcis, waving arms in the air, getting the ok etc. Pretty soon it was 1 pm. I still had 3 and a half hours to kill and I was checked in already. I walked down the moving sidewalk trying to get past the crowds of people with their excess luggage. I thought about henry rollins spoken word speeche where he talks about people getting in the way on those things. It dawned on me that even though I had packed lightId be dodging around a lof of people who had not. If only others would follow my lead!
Soon I got near my gate and checked in my pocket for the bording passes. Before stuffing them into my wallet i gave them a quick glance to make sure I was going in the right direction. I’d be leaving at 445 pm and arriving 720 the next night in Dubai- than onto a 2 and a half hour layover before flying to Rajiv Ghandi airport arriving the followong morning around 3 am. I wondered what i’d be doing at 3 am. I’d received an email that a mr. Soupreet would be picking me up at 6 am. I doubted that it would take mre than an hour to recieve the guitar I’d checked.
at that point it didn’t really matter. I was getting out of the rat race. Or was I exchanging one for the other? Hard to say t this point. all i knew was now I was at the right gate, 3 hours early, and bloody tired. I closed my eyes and drifteed off to sleep. My thoughts turned to a previous trip to india it was years earlier when i was 19 years old. I rememberarriving in such a different kind of land which such a shock to the system that it served as an infrmal altered state and delivered me from a world of worries which had dogged my teenage brain. at the same time i was so young. Even though I was in a world of hope I was also had a hunger. My taste of chai for the first time in the cavern hafl way between chennai and pondicherri was just hot enought to where it didn’t burn my toungue yet i still had to sip slowly. The inneepers nodded with otherworldy politeness as an in american in my caravan explained that odd as it was, it would be common to have hot drinks in the hundred degree weather, somehow evening out the body temperature. I loved the taste of the chai and didn’t care that it was creating beads of sweat that were so dense that they poured off of me like rain drops onto the earthen ground.
“Section G, section G, please get ready to board.” I opened my eyes and pulled my ticket out. I was section F - I quickly bolted up and threw on my backpack. There was a throng of people in what was supposed to be a line. The elite 1st classes had already boarded leaving the anxious stragglers coljoing to get in. I figured the plane would be leaving at the same time and didn’t try too hard to get head. Children were throwing tantrums along with their baby siblings who were crying. I knew it was going to be a long journey but I didn’t nind.
I MERRILY CLIMBED ABOARD THE 777. THE PILOT GREETED ME AND A PRETTY SLOVENIAN STEWARDESS WEARING A RED CAP (ALL THE STEWARDESS WORE THESE) POINTED ME TOWRDS THE ISLE I WAS TO WALK DOWN. I MADE MY WAY THROUGH FIRST CLASS WHERE THE HAPY ELITE STRETCHED OUT THEIR LEGS, LAZILY LOUNGING ABOUT WITH LAPTOPS. ONE ALREADY WAS FALLING ASLEEP WITH HIS EYEPILLOW CLUMSILY ATTACHED TO HIS FACE, LOUDLY SNORING AND BLISSFULLY OBLIVOUS OF THE OTHER PASSENGERS.
When i came to my isle who wa sitting on the seat next to mine but the chaplinesque line hopper. While his attributes were definitely attributatble to the aforementioned silent era film star, he also shared a likelihood to john turturro with a tan. He flipped his newspaper anxiously and pretended not to notice me from the check in line.
“hello sir, I believe I’m stting here. “
Without looking at me he got up and stepped in back of me, waited for me to sit, than went back to his newspapers. I wanted to ask him why he was in such a rush earlier where we had plenty of time for his flight but I was too distraced by the blonde stewardess in a british accent who brushed by me, her cute butt colliding with my elbow. I was happy to see a small sack with a zipper full of goodies waiting for me on my seat, along with a wimply pillow and some kind of scarf blanket given to keep us warm from the artificial frigidity that would soon be blowing down us via plastic sea anenome looking a/c portals.
How lovely to peek inside and snatch the contents within the little bag! a cool little toothbrush, with toothpaste in a tubular container, eyepillow, and a few other chachkes.
as a kid was moaning loudly to his mother I wondered why they didn’t include earplugs in the kit as well. Or perhaps earmuffs the likeness of what you use to shield your ears at a shooting range!
Well at least I had my clash mp3 uploaded. I could pump up the volume to hear joe strummer screaming at me louder than anybody. I know i was supposed to be listening to the airline safey presentation but instead my ears were basking in the sweet sensation of “white man at hammersmith palais.” The blonde stewardess wearily snapped her fake seat belts in the aire all the while probably dreaming of her last orgasm or martini in london, whichever was strongerst on her mind. I had a quick fantastical thought
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