Monday, October 25, 2010

airport date at 8 bells and visits that make your heart flap.


Its 2 bells on the dot and I have a place to be at the brightest part of the morning. I was pondering leaving this post for a later date, a time more suitable. But alas my best man friend, who is vacating to NewfuckingYork for a week, texts me with the news that his flight time has yet again changed and he now doesn't have to be there until 12. Not so much better for me, as there is an online contest I want to enter, and it starts at 12, and will predictable end at 12:10. I have yet to text him this completely selfish news, my oh my. I have always been heart heavy for airports, knowing that no where else could you find such an eclectic, whimsy atmosphere, with relentless comings and goings and so much emotion and baggage, figuratively and literally speaking. I love late, late flights and uncomfortably early morning flights that force you into a state of grogginess only early morning flights can. I have many a memories of landing in cities right at sunset, with cityscapes galore and the new energy of a unknown city waiting to swallow you whole, to eat you alive. I have not left this prairie town in over a year now, I am beginning to feel it, I need to land in city at sundown sometime soon, I want to step out into new air, strange people, foreign transit routes, intriguing food options, fresh faces, provoking art, all that traveling offers, or not, I am content right here, right now, with all I have. I have enough of it all, of everything.

I unsuccessfully dropped off my resume today, but more importantly ran into a good friend in the streets amidst my frustrations of my own incompetence. She told me I looked professional and hawt and asked me where I was going and encouraged me to go after what I wanted. I forgot how sweet this girl is, actually, one of the top 5 sweetest women I know. I asked her to walk me to my car and we talked and she was like, "you know what?", "I'm drunnnkkk!". I shit a brick, it was the timing and delivery of it but it was fucking hilarious. Drunk and driving around mid afternoon, but totally with valid reason. She had just gotten a new job with her beau, thus they were having celebratory drinks, et cetera. So that made my day. I then served coffee, for 7 hours as 3 of my favorite coworkers came and went due to a shift discrepancy and I infamously got my hair caught in the fly trap again and had some moronic douche ask me the most dreaded, generic, overrated question I get, (though, refreshingly, not nearly as much anymore). "Hey, um, this is totally random but what does your tattoo mean?" Okay, listen. First, completely understandable that one would want to inquire about the inspiration behind the process of permanently inking your body with something such as a rowboat, but, if you really wish to pry and violate someone's personal territory, such as body modifications, do it with class, shithead. I answered vaguely and told him it was representative of a trip I took and it essentially means clarity. He later comes over to me and asks for a glass of water and says he was sorry but he needed it as he was hoping it would bring him clarity. Was that mockery at its best? my god, so lame. It didn't help that he was weird and so was his collective group of friends/family/whatever. Unsettling experience, though I am sadly used to that. 

Half way through my shift I got a text from my girl hinting she might stop by, alone, on a night that was not to be followed by drinking and intimate car chats. A first. She was delivering a letter, and I was not sure as to wether she would actually show. Alas, my beautiful, dark haired, stripped shirted beauty walks in and my heart blasted into overdrive. I couldn't think or stand or walk or breath or speak. My heart was literally flapping 1000 beats a minute. I made her tea and had a short visit and she left and I felt so happy the rest of my shift with a gid factor at an all time high. 

I spent the rest of my night overdosing on bakudan, and wondering if it was cute and endearing, or strange and weird that a girl asked for a empire cookie, rather than the more common term, imperial cookie.  

Some peoples children.

Oh, and, shout out to my girl CHANTAL, who admitted to me that she reads this, I LOVE YOU AND YOU ARE THE BEES KNEES. 

Nirrimi is at it again, I am off to dreamland. 


No comments:

Post a Comment