[i]Sleep on the China bus does not constitute as sleep. Even with earplugs, a cheap eye mask, and one of those clever neck pillows there’s just no comfort to be found. My neck is leaning over. The heating system on this bus turns on in spurts so after a few minutes of pleasure you’re back to the body quivering. About seven hours later I hear the familiar sounds of the hustling bustling city of New York. We shove off the bus into the frightfully cold air. I witness a squabble between a crazy old Chinese man and a black man. Rigging up my guitar onto my suitcase so I can just roll everything along.
Taking the subway to Nathan’s apartment off Seneca Avenue in
Queens. Just need a place to rest and charge up.
A few of his roommates let me in. Eating a Peanut Butter
Bagel with an Apple. Then washing it down with a few sips of an intense
Espresso Ryan made a pot of. I can’t get acclimated to the strange flavor.
Napping for a little over an hour on the couch.
Business online – communication and scheduling with others
in Russia. There’s a fiery anticipation between Aysena and I. We haven’t seen
each other in person since last October. Boy am I excited to see her cute
Yakutian face. This will be a pivotal visit, one that will gauge the spark her
and I have mildly maintained since our last venture.
Mesquite Almonds. Hawaiian Chips. Chamomile Tea. Banana.
Taking the L to the J to the AirTrain to the JFK airport.
Then going through security. And after two and a half hours I’m now sitting at
the gate just waiting for the plane to arrive so we can board. Airport life is
the life for me! Hurry up and wait. That’s my motto.
Gulping down an Airborne in hopes it will keep my immune
system alive.
As part of my flight plan, instead of using a Russian
airline, Priceline booked Alitalia, an Italian airline. So instead of getting
the whole Russian plane experience I’m given the Italian. The flight attendant
refers to me as Senor Smith but with an emphasis on the “t” cause of her
Italian accent. The introduction instructional video consists of creepy cutout
animation sequences, complete with sound effects, on how to buckle your safety
belt and the rules of the aircraft. [In broken Italian English] “In case of
aircraft failure please remove your high heel shoes before exiting on the
slide...” I hear a few chuckles from American passengers nearby. Unfortunately
the New York snowfall has caused a delay in take off. We have to wait while the
outside crew de-ices the plane. In the process I watch as they splatter a green
slimy substance on the roof, which oozes over the windows, a perfect set up for
a horror movie. I imagine being attacked by a ridiculous blob monster or
something like that. We’re all subjected to no circulating air and forced to
fan ourselves. Impatience fills the cabin. As well I have to listen to this
ridiculous conversation coming from the row behind me, some young American
skiing coach blabs on and on to a mother and daughter about his ample knowledge
of almost anything in the world and all his properties scattered across the
states. His boastful voice carries. I’m not amused by his stories. I put on
headphones to drown it out.
...
After about an hour and a half the plane finally takes off.
I’m reading The Stranger.
“After another moment’s silence, she mumbled that I was
peculiar, that that was probably why she loved me but that one day I might hate
her for the same reason.”
...
A few hours in it’s mealtime. I’m privileged enough to get
my in-flight dinner first but only because I marked for the vegetarian option
when booking my flight. For whatever reason they bring those out before
everyone else’s. I can feel the jealous eyes around me. And I do feel bad
because I finish eating before anyone even gets their food. But boy,
this is one of the best in-flight meals I’ve ever had I must say. Asparagus,
Carrots, Peppers, Spinach, and Rice topped with a Portobello Mushroom, a Side
Salad, a Fruit Cup, and a Dinner Roll. And the cute little plastic red, green,
and white dinnerware makes it aesthetically pleasing. Except for the
salt/pepper and sugar packets I consume everything on the tray. Then I wash it
down with a cup of White Wine. My Italiano friend next to me requests three
cups of red wine and downs them in a matter of minutes. I’m not sure if it’s
rude to floss next to him but I do it anyway. I’d rather not disturb him by
making him get out of his seat.
...
Time for sleep. And don’t ask me what time it is cause I
don’t know and I don’t care. All I know is that it’s dark as we fly over the
Atlantic ocean.
[i] Images by
me.
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