Last call to Kansas…

This is turning into a really long day…

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Flights delayed at Houston (earlier tornado caused understandable issues!), borderline starved, four fifths asleep, enthusiasm for holiday slowly dwindling.  Managed to perk myself up by putting on ‘August And Everything After’ by the Counting Crows on my iPhone.

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It’s one of the great wonders in life, how the most frustrating or depressing situations can be instantly dampened and in some cases rectified completely by the best music.  What was a down in the dumps, ball busting, exhausting wait has been swiftly turned into a toe-tapping, head bopping, endless possibilties kind of deal.  I swear these Americans must think I’m a little bit crazy, grinning like a cheshire cat whilst simultaneously air drumming at various intervals.  I start to notice that the seat next to me in the packed terminal is empty and has been for some time.  This despite 99% of the other seats being filled and a lot of people standing around idly, waiting for their plane.  I worry that maybe I have my music on too loud or I look like the type of person who is prone to smelling bad. (They’d be close to the truth the day after curry night back home.)  I wonder if I look like the kind of person you would just rather stand than sit next to and the reasons why this could be, I’m certainly not the most intimidating of men.  Just as I start to indulge in my paranoia, a man takes his place in the seat as unassuming as can be.

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It kind of reminds me of how it feels to walk through Covent Garden (or Canterbury high street on a Saturday afternoon) accosted by the various touts and charity workers angling for a minute (or ten) of your time. As you approach, you catch a glimpse of them in the distance, plot your escape and practice your firm but friendly “no thanks” in your head.  Then as you get nearer you start to pace your walk to time it just right so that as someone else is got, you’re able to sneak by unnoticed and unbothered. It’s the strangest thing that this is a real source of pride if you get it right, yet if they see you and you see them and they don’t even bother to ask you, you feel strangely affronted. It’s a split second thing but it’s almost like they let you walk by, that your not worth even asking.  What’s wrong with me?  Do I not look charitable?  Am I not the type of person you want in your store?  It’s certainly an exercise in narcissism on my part.  Ridiculous on so many levels, a passing thing for sure but one that leaves me questioning the dangerous fragility of my delicate self-esteem!

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Back at the airport, the man who sat next to me’s plane is called and he gets up to walk to his boarding desk.  The empty seat next to me remains unused as every other seat in the terminal is filled up and still people are just standing, waiting… there must be something wrong with me!  (That or my music’s too loud).