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By Kai Eric
This is what is what happened. I was approaching LA. My plane was descending into the reddish brown mists. The overtly gay airline steward was overly attentive. He asked me over and over if I needed anything and kept admiring my raw silver ring. I was polite but I hated making small talk with him. I wanted to get lost in the digital acoustic depths of my iPod.
However, I had been nice to him and had inadvertently encouraged him. I guess in this perverse and decomposing society the mere act of being polite has its risks. I extricated myself and reentered my world of disconnect and detachment. I spent the rest of the flight staring out of the window at a broken world moving deceptively slowly beneath us. The sky was clear and the bright sun was hopeful. However, deep inside I felt disquiet. I felt older and felt that I was on a ride, outside of myself and out of control. I was on automatic, going though the motions, flexible and ready for raw fresh experience.
I had just been in Austin that morning. My flight was as 8am and so I was up at 5am and by 6am I already felt like I had been ripped off at least once. I met the car rental agent in the pre-morning artificial glow of the airport parking lot. I had picked the silver grey Sorrento in Houston and driven with my girl Eva to Austin. The original plan had been to return to Houston, but hey things change. Yes everything changes from moment to moment and the world spins on as if it is trying to shake me off, yet despite it, I continue to hang on by my eyelashes.
Anyway, I wanted to return the vehicle in Austin instead of Houston and had inquired by website and cell phone as to what the penalty would be for making a company actually have to work. Everything was cool because I had JD on the line who I thought might have the information I required since he answered their phone and supposedly worked there. He assured me it was no problem to drop off the car in question at the airport and warned me of a $50 drop off charge. Quite reasonable I thought at the time as I stood by the window of my room at the Lakewood Spa and Resort looking down upon the man-made Lake Travis.
However, now the lone female attendant wanted twice that amount and any good feeling I had at that hour of the morning evaporated with her pronouncement. I paid the unexpected fee and wandered into the terminal slightly wounded. I walked up to the e-check in and somberly received my boarding pass. I got dutifully on line and removed my shoes and as I waited my mind played tricks on me. I thought about old loves, unfinished work and my uncertain future. I removed my laptop from its case, I took off my jacket, belt, and shoes and removed all metal objects from my pockets. I watched my lucky quarter disappear into the bowels of the x-ray machine and when it reappeared at the other end it was not the same. The magic had been erased from it and it became ordinary. I contemplated it in my palm for a moment and thought that if I had any tears left that it would be worth one or two, but all tears are long gone and I was urged to move forward by the dubiously competent security personnel.
With 90 minutes to kill I explored the early morning terminal. I walked through the newsstand and thought to buy some eye drops and a copy of the New York Times. I can never read an entire NYT, but, I always try to at least read the editorial pages. I put the pages under my arm and walked to the breakfast taco stand. It was clean and freestanding. Although I was not really hungry I knew that most domestic flights do not serve food anymore. Today they are more likely to offer you a pick from an array of brand name salted snacks accompanied by a beverage of your choice. Juices made from concentrate and sugar high sodas are free but alcohol and movie headphones are $5….$5 ….$5. Of course, that is what I wanted…and that was what I needed. What could be more American than cheap booze and distraction while moving through the stratosphere at 500, 600 or 700 miles per hour.
You faithful readers already know that I really do not care about anything anymore and so I ordered a Bloody Mary and whipped out a Lincoln note. The mini vodka bottle came with a plastic cup of ice and a large can of mixer. It seemed worth every penny. I did not order the movie but I did watch the silent previews play on the small seat screen before me. The trailers played over and over again as they tried to entice me into a purchase. However, I was experiencing a disconnect and a bit of ennui. The flight was full and I in my window seat felt alone and removed. I barely made eye contact with the passenger next to me and only mumbled a hollow greeting as I was taking my seat. For all intents and purposes I was alone with myself, my mind, and my heart. I looked out the window at the wing of the airbus and admired the beauty and technological marvel of it. The fact that I did not truly understand its complexity while trusting it with my life drew me into a feeling that can only be described as existential angst. That feeling floated upon me for the next few days. I had been traveling for weeks and felt as if I had fallen through a mirror and wound up broken and forever changed on the other side.
So that is where I am today. I am going through the motions and ignoring the encroaching sorrow as I count and then recount my frequent flyer miles.
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Now I'm sad too... see what you
did? Bloody Mary mixer is all
salt... order it with V8 next time.
Beautiful.
Comment by
Dan Stuart
3/28/2008 @ 6:19 pm
a fine read.
Comment by
davo
3/29/2008 @ 7:42 pm
Which car rental company?
Comment by
postmod
4/7/2008 @ 9:57 pm
In all fairness, I do not think
that I should mention their name
because they did make reparations
to me once I complained a few day
later. So now all is good.
Comment by
Kai Eric
4/7/2008 @ 11:25 pm
Shee-zus! Gawd.
Comment by
villachez
4/11/2008 @ 4:47 pm
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