Originally it was my intention to keep a log or journal of my adventures here, but I spent more time living the adventure rather than writing it down, fear not for every now and again I did jot some of it onto a small note pad. And you can rest assured that the intention of documenting the whole bloody thing is still strong within me. I do believe that I should begin telling the story instead of wasting more time on spent thrift pages, so I shall begin.
It is quite usual for me not to be able to remember the exact events of a particular situation and now is no exception. Trying to recollect the happenings of the day of my departure feels as if I were trying to remember something I had dreamt. I remember that it was a rather cold farewell. The sky was overcast and it was snowing which gave me some comfort for it was as if an old friend was saying so long, farewell, take care, and drop me a line some time. I stood by my parents, my two brothers and one of my sisters in law as my youngest niece slept in her stroller. My luggage sat neatly on one of those carts you find in airports but that’s not important. I was at the airport a couple of hours before the fight was scheduled to leave just as instructed by the clerk at the travel agency. I glanced over my family as to take a mental picture of them when my oldest brother explained that I should get going to the boarding gate because of some long winded reason that I couldn’t be bother to listen to, but abidingly I stepped into the queue to check in my luggage and obtain a boarding pass. Once I had my boarding pass they accompanied me to the security check and we proceeded with saying our good byes with some haste because if they hurried they would only be charged for a half hour of parking instead of the full rate. So, shortly after some hugs and kisses we parted ways. I then proceeded though the metal detector as my hand luggage went through the x-ray machine. I made my way over to the boarding gate where I waited alone. Little by little more passengers arrived, and little by little the sky changed to darker tones of grey until it finally night. I boarded the plane and we were only two hours behind schedule.
Rarely have I heard someone tell me that they have had a terrific flight, usually they complain on how horrible the staff treated them, or how they had turbulents the whole time, or about how awful the food was, and of coarse, how their luggage arrived on the other side of the planet. My fight on the other hand wasn’t all that bad considering that the view from my seat wasn’t too awe inspiring since it was night and later when it was day all I could see was the wing of the plane. I did have the pleasure of sitting beside a women who shortly after take off was moved to first class because her seat wasn’t big enough to accommodate the overwhelming size of her buttocks and endless mounds of lard that gracefully hung off her body. She was a large woman and in her own way she was drop dead gorgeous and seeing her walk off to first class made her look sexy and classy. We experienced turbulents several times during the fight. The first coincided with the moment that that nice lady who was seated next to me was moved to first class. Later I reckoned that he must have moved around during the entire flight for never did we ever stop bouncing about in the sky. Reaching the first hour of the flight the staff began serving us dinner: I had the curried chicken with mango chutney sauce and snow peas and corn salad, and I can happily confess that the meal was divine. So divine in fact that it was like dining in the snottiest and most sophisticated of restaurants meaning that the dish had a piece of chicken breast with the sauce dabbled artistically over, two snow peas and three ears of corn. Once I finished dinner I still felt quite peckish but air steward kindly told me wearing an unkind smile that seconds were not offered but offered me instead all the tap water I could desire, or so I thought, you see he and I had communication difficulties because we spoke different languages.
The turbulents grew in frequency, later I was told that that dear lady entertained the first class cabinet with her own interpretation of a giant elephant dancing the lead role of the Nutcracker. And knowing that the people in first class also had the privilege of drinking all the water that their little hearts desired lead me to believe that she also visited the ladies room often for at times the plane took serious upward and downward dips. The unfortunate things about turbulents is that they don’t come in sweet rhythmical patterns assisting to you to sleep, instead they jerk you and jerk you around and toss you about like a good rough session of hard sex. And thinking about this I found it even more difficult to sleep and constantly wondered what that lovely lady who sat beside me was doing and whether she would be willing. I put a stop to the fascination before we even attempted to enter the cramped quarters otherwise known as the bathroom. From my bag that was safely tucked away in the over head compartment I pulled out two “mothers’ little helpers,” those that come in the form of two little pills with some letters embossed on them. And those little helpers assist you to sleep with great haste. The details of the flight while I slept are unknown to me and just as well. I awoke as the steward passed out the breakfast trays which consisted of a croissant, toast, jam and butter. He then passed down the isle a second time asking “Café? Cha?” Feeling adventurous I asked for the cha but it turned out that it was only tea.
At last land was finally spotted after so many hours of only being able to see the sea. Through the window I saw that the coast was being bombarded by waves as tall as the palm trees that stood in front of them. The palms trees themselves fluttered about like a couple of chickens caught in a cyclone. The sea was unhappy with my arrival and she expressed her rage by providing us all with the worst storm the area had seen in decades. The fat lady was firmly strapped in her seat and the plane still tossed around like a leaf trapped in a tornado. The plane circled the airport several times due to low visibility and we were forced to implement emergency loop operations to avoid crashing with other planes. Lightening struck one of the wings causing a temporary blackout and ironically we began our fiery decent, plummeting towards the runway, zeroing down to our target like the smartest of smart missiles. The wheels were out and readily to engage the slick black asphalt. They inched their way to the Earth with us on their backs in what took fractions of a second but appeared to take hours until finally the inevitable veritably happened. The wheels screeched upon coming in contact with the concrete like surface, smoking and smearing its rubber all along the landing strip.
The landing was a spectacular display of ingenuity, and to this day I commend the pilot for not killing us with his top dog tactics. Many of the passengers on the plane applauded, and many more of them made the sign of the cross praising God. The whole experience was so heart touching that I was expecting the Pope to step up and prepare to kiss the ground. The pilot then turned on the overhead speakers to announce that we had arrived safely and thanked us all for flying on this airline and at the end apologised for the bumpy ride in. I swore by everything an anything holy that I would never fly with them again.
Now that we were finally here we began to unboard the plane whispering curses underneath our breaths as we passed by to shake the pilot’s hand. Unfortunately ‘here’ wasn’t where I was headed, I needed to get ‘over there’ which was a little bit further than just over yonder, so to do so it was necessary to cross from one end of this god forsaken airport to the other side to later find that I had to board the very same plane! My trek across the foreign airport where information was broadcasted in a foreign language unknown to me began on the wrong foot, that being the left foot. I failed to mention at the beginning of this tale that I had recently had minor knee surgery done and as a consequence I limped horribly. I carried all my hand luggage without the aid of one of those little carts you find in the airport due to some unexplainable shortage, thus I cursed all those that had one. I believe it would be best if I abstained from sharing anymore details of my crossing of that. I would ask all of you, my dear readers to pretend that I never got off the plane, more so that the damned plane never even landed ‘here.’ I would ask you to imagine that this unpleasant experience was merely a terrifying surreal nightmare caused by the indigestion and built up gas that I was suffering thanks to poisoned gruel server on the plane.
As we flew along the coast, the waves crashed against the shore repeatedly and unrepentfully, shaping the rocks to its will. The sight of such waves induced the need to release some fluids of my own, but I had to wait, squiring and crossing my legs in anguish until the hefty beauty vacated the tiny service cubical. Once she was out the flight attendants strapped her into her seat, the pilot landed the plane without complications, the ride was finally over and everyone knew it because the fat lady sang.
I hope that you, my audience aren’t getting too anxious to know where I am because before I get to that I prefer to tell you about my rather odd welcoming. I picked up my luggage and placed as best as I could on one of those carts that you find in the airport, this cart was different from the one I mentioned before, but still that’s not important. I hobbled along behind the cart until I saw two faces that were vaguely familiar to me. I then looked beside those two faces and saw the faces of my cousin and uncle, which were just as vaguely familiar to me. I imagine that my cousin had recognised me thanks to some recent pictures she had of me, and to attract my attention she frantically waved her arms in the air similarly to the way birds flap their wings when acting out their ritual mating practices. She was making quite a spectacle out of herself, so I pretended not to see her, causing her to wave her arms more enthusiastically. My uncle didn’t notice me because he, along with several photographers and journalists were too busy observing the ceremony where two arch bishops helped the Pope down to kiss the tarmac and enter the Pope mobile.
I avoided my relatives up until I realised that I needed to get to where I needed to go. An internal conflict arose with me with a little voice telling me that I should flee the scene and another one telling me tat it wasn’t so bad and that they might have brought some food. Reason dictated that I should greet my long lost relatives with open arms, exchanging hugs kisses and tears. We made small talk as we made our way to the car exchanging trivial anecdotes and simple minded questions. I inquired about their current food situation and they answered that they had brought none, and with that I swore by everything holy and demonic that I’d never listen to logic nor reason again. They kindly inquired about the fight and wearing a sinister smirk and self induce psychotic tick I answered, “Wonderful, absolutely wonderful.”
