Tuesday, January 04, 2005

part 2...

exactly on schedule, the plane hits the run way. it was as smooth of a flight as i have ever been on. i contemplated praising the pilot on my out but shortly came to the conclusion that i, knowing nothing about flying, might come across as someone trying to be a know-it-all by complimenting on something i knew nothing but the comfort about.

walking through the terminal to the baggage claim, i thought about 'the terminal', the movie. i remember someone telling me that it was based off of a true story-and while watching the movie weeks ago, how the thought of it being an actual account versus a fictionalized script, affected me deeply; on how cruel everyone was to this helpless and victimized man. and although the terminal was filmed in and about jfk, how incredibly similar la guardia mirrored the appearance of jfk. but it was the cruelty tom hanks character received that i found to be puzzling. this was because on my last trip to the city, i experienced nothing but kindness and helpfulness from new yorkers: a girl in a bar offering me a cigarette, an old man on some street in china town, after looking at me looking dumbfounded at a map then back up to the street sign, asking me, with the gruffiest new york accent imaginable, if i needed some help with directions, the couple in the subway suggesting places i should visit, and the friends of erik who enthusiatically cheered for me each time i got up to bowl.

as i stood on the corner outside the airport, sweetly waving my hand for a cab like they do in the movies, a cab driver pointed at the sign behind me, which read, "taxis ->". i must have looked like a total goof but the people behind me didn't chuckle, they just kept on moving. as did i, but with rosy cheeks.

after waiting in line for over half a hour for a taxi, i'm finally in one and on my way to the lower east side apartment jackie(rachels sister) found for us on craigs list. the cab driver is telling me about when he was young. his accent is strong and i have a vexxing time at understanding everything he's telling me, but being conscious of the moment at hand; of feeling the coolness of the pleather seat become warmer each second i'm slumped over it, of the reflection of me-of the tassels of my hair that had mysteriously fallen from my pony tail and the cream wool scarf swallowing my face, staring back at me from the night lit maze of senescent apartments and dodgy streets outside the window, of this conversation between two people from two different worlds--i doubt my previous suspensions of this trip being a mistake could be true, even despite the yearning in my heart to be on the opposite coast in another type of automobile with a man i can verbally understand.

to be continued...

4 comments:

EC said...

actually, technically, you were in the East Village.

Ivan Lenin said...

You were in NY and didn't even tell me? Shame, shame, shame.

Missie Rose said...

ivan, i suck. forgive me? i promise, next time i'll have myself more organized so that i remember to give you a heads up. with christmas, family in town, three jobs rolling, and trying to plan new years eve i seemed to have forgotten some of the most important things to do before i left. boo on me.

Ivan Lenin said...

three jobs, wow! you all over the place - good for you. yes, next time please do let me know, or else i'll have to go to texas and investigate. or are you not in texas no more?