Friday, December 12, 2014

like a true teenager, i loitered



My flight departed from YTZ to EWR at 13:30 and I was on schedule to land at 15:00. I land and like a lost child looking for his parents, I was looking for the AirTrain machine. I apologize New Jersey, but we need to divorce and I need to meet my lover: New York City. Our first encounter was back in 2010 and you abused my credit card to its apex. A few shopping trips there, a few cab rides here and the dinners, well, they weren't cheap and you never picked up the tab. Chivalry is still alive.

This time, like a true New Yorker, I learned to use the subway because somewhere in my brain, my amygdala had gone haywire. It wasn't too stimulating, you just need to give off the illusion that you know what you're doing and well, if I can fake an orgasm (I've never faked an orgasm, but it's a sensitive issue for men) then I can fake my I Know How To Ride A Subway In New York. I frequented restaurants, I shopped at Opening Ceremony and took a gander through Williamsburg because Grumpy.




All that didn't happen. It was a fictitious account of what could have happened if it wasn't for the fucking snow storm that hit Toronto and ruined my rendezvous with my lover. Albeit, it was a learning experience about myself and the people around me and the chaos that ensues when more than half the flights are cancelled and parents have their children's recitals to go to.

It started out very well and promising. That ferry ride from Toronto to the island was short and amazing. A woman in her 60's budded me and at first I was annoyed, but the star powers that be, it was Susan Sarandon. She had a bodyguard. I didn't. My life is meaningless.

At check-in, the lady informed me that the likelihood of me getting on a flight was slim, but I took my chances and in hindsight, I probably should have went home. But, if I didn't proceed to security I wouldn't have this story to recount to my 6+ readers.

I waited 30 minutes in the lobby until my flight was ready to board. As per usual, I was wasting time on Grindr and chatted with a divorced man who argued that marriage is pivotal to our well being. Please. He argued on the merit that he had a PhD and when I asked about his dissertation, he replied abnormal behaviour: vague. I assume there was no PhD. Announcement: flight PD 135 has been delayed to 14:40. Okay, I'll wait this one out. I'm patient. It's one of my best traits.

I went to grab some refreshments because, free and sat back down where my seat was warm like how I left it. 14:40 comes along and announcement: delayed to 17:00. Alright, I made some friends. These friends were easygoing like me, not a care in the world and a delay meant hope that our flight will be ready to board, eventually. Friend number one was a PhD student studying classics. I informed her about my classics class that I barely passed due to the fact that my prof. would create arbitrary questions. She argued that there shouldn't be any multiple choice exams, but rather only papers. YES.

The other two worked in film at the AGO and those two were great. Easy going, optimistic and loaded on salted almonds and Steam Whistle. Not bothered by the delay, but optimistic by the assumption that Sarandon was to board the same flight and the powers lay in Sarandon and her star power. Funny enough, me and these two have some commonalities in the field. What was a waiting game to board a flight turned into an opportunity to network. She gave me her card.

The AGO'ers guessed my vocation and based on my black monochromatic attire: toque, glasses, jumper, boots and jacket over shoulder, they assumed I held many titles. Many titles is true. I work, I volunteer, I write and I pick up Zoey's (dog) poop. Only one, though, has currency traveling to my bank.

There we were, a group of strangers, connecting to past the time. And then there was everyone else, kicking and screaming and demanding they hop on the next flight. Calm the fuck down. Do you want to crash and die a bloody death because you will if you don't shut the fuck up.

Announcement: "Can Perry Phalla come to the front desk?" Oh fuck, I'm going home. I did go home. But my calm disposition left me weirdly happy. I kind of enjoyed being voluntarily stuck at an airport hoping my flight would depart. Oh, there was also Rufus Wainwright. Wow. The lesson here is embrace your surroundings and talk to people. Put your phone down and you might learn something. I learned that my social skills are excellent and I appear to have it all without having it all.

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