Thursday, March 7, 2013
N is out of the country now. He emailed me that he had an annoying seat mate who wouldn't stop talking. It's funny to imagine because N doesn't really like talking a lot to strangers.
I have many wacky stories of flight seatmates from the past when I used to travel for work all the time. There was the preacher whose angelic blue eyes I still remember, who actually helped me a ton after a breakup; the stalker (a classic story for another time); the Rabbi; the nurse from Australia who saved my broken ankle, I am still friends with; the old lady from India who said she was a psychic, and predicted my future love life - another classic.
The past few years I have only flown with N. I'm sad to have to take a flight with him not by my side. If there is turbulence I don't have his lap to hide in. Turbulence on my last 2 flights were horrific, so scary that I screamed out loud. I can only hope for next week's seatmate's sake there is no turbulence. I can only hope my seat mate is this:
I'm a silent seatmate. I don't start talking to strangers and I secretly wish they don't start talking to me. I hate when people ask about your life when you have no idea where your life is going.
I used to get asked all the time, 'are you in school or do you work?". But I usually had a clear direction at the time in life, a clear answer. I think I've gotten past the school age look now and so now they only ask me what I do for a living. Depressing. The last guy who asked this 6 months ago was clearly a player and came up with every glamorous job in New York guessing what I did for a living. I told him, "if I told you what I really did all day for a living you would laugh', and thought to myself I really couldn't stand what I spent my days doing at the time and how, how could I change it?!
So if friendly seatmate decides to ask me that annoying question next week, what do I say these days to 'what do you do?' and 'where are you going?':
'Well, I am recovering from a major meltdown, perhaps realistically even breakdown, where I sequestered myself into a studio apartment the size of most prison cells for nearly 6 weeks, completely cut off from the real world, because I think quite frankly, the real world sucks and people in Finance, especially in New York City are cruel, self centered and evil. I contemplated getting Valium to get on this plane but I am too cheap to pay for the doctors appointment to get it so forced self on the plane all on my own, a nervous wreck worried with every big bump in the air the plane is going to suddenly crash and the end of my life would be as deranged as the last few months have been with no happy ending. I'm on a free one way award ticket to California, not knowing when I will return or even if I will return, as I have no job to return to and no desire to ever work for evil corporate America again. I will stay at my sister's for free to help me on my road to recovery from a bad depression and somehow take care of her spoiled dog which the hope is will cure my severe dog phobia I developed 3 years ago after being viciously attacked by a deranged lunatic animal someone actually called a pet.
If I do return I am looking forward to my energy healer appointment my semi boyfriend gave me as a Valentines Day gift. Yes, I have a semi boyfriend-- semi because I am pushing him away. The guy is too nice and perhaps too good for me. See, I am nuts right now. The delusional hope is this energy healer cures me of all my blocked chakras and bad luck or whatever that has caused disastrous job experiences, and low mood. That is if I decide to ever go back to the cold mean streets of New York City".
It's cool to think of when on a flight where everybody is going to, where they are running away from, where they are going back to. We all have our stories. Mine right now though could be one of the strangest.
Better keep the ear buds in and fake sleep.