By lex, on May 16th, 2006
Lord I dislike traveling from east to west. Let my secretary talk me into a 0630 flight out of Sandy Eggo, so that I could get to Norfolk while it was still daylight. Which is supposed to mean something to me, or maybe she’s being solicitous. On account of my advancing decrepitude, like.
Checked in and showed my boarding pass to the flight attendant. It’s somehow hardwired into my brain. Genetic memory, maybe. She made a kind show of demonstrating – the only seats forward of the hatch belonging to aircrew – that seat 23F must be somewhere there in the back. That way. If the world was truly fair, first class passengers would sit back aft, where the coach cattle wouldn’t have to walk past their studiously eye-contact avoiding splendor, before descending into the knacker’s yard. Sat in cattle with the rest of the lumpen masses, the fare being a portion of your tax dollars at work, and your humble scribe nothing, if not a steward of the national fisc. And when I say “lumpen masses,” for once I don’t exaggerate. Sat dead center between two big fellers, who, one more jelly roll? Between them? Would have had to go snacks on the seat I occupied. Oh, I am so due.
(Had a long stretch of conversation in there – since deleted – about how, given the odds, eventually I’d find myself seated next to someone who wasn’t a fat guy. Or a smelly guy. Or a fat, smelly guy. But that brought up the whole issue of who I’d rather be sitting next to, and frankly, I’m not quite ready to share that. With you.)
(Her name is Uma. It’s a long story.)
Got here finally, claro. Saw trees and rolling hills and that muddy ol’ Elizabeth River and now I was back home. Stepped off the jet and felt that wonderful, living breath of Virginia air. It’s the last bit of honest springtime, with nothing but a hint of the mind-smashing, soul-destroying humidity just around the corner. Not enough to make you glisten, as you walked down the jetway. Just enough to remind you that you’re going to, and more.
Budget only had a convertible Mustang, which fact I found absurdly pleasing. Crabs for supper (because I could), and a movie after. “Silent Hill,” because no one being here, no one could stop me.
Tomorrow? We staff!