Like Odysseus before me, the first day began early. Really early. We didn’t retire to bed until after 1am (Nicci is being caught up on FlashForward), and I was up an hour before the alarm was scheduled to awaken us. As it turned out, I was at the airport entirely too early. I was the first person seated at the gate. I was there early enough to catch some workers from LAX fix the typo on the departure board, which kept flashing “New Yo$k / Newark” as my flight’s intended destination. Subtle.
Boarding time was a fucking mess. The flight was completely booked, and the one girl responsible for constructing an orderly load-in was in way over her head. By the time I got to my seat (I was somewhere in the middle of the plane), almost every overhead bin was completely filled. Our takeoff was delayed several minutes as large items were removed from the overhead bins and gate-checked so that smaller bags could be stored in their place. Luckily, this extra time at the gate provided me with a valuable piece of information: our plane featured DirecTV for the low-low price of $6. Sold. Also before takeoff, some last-minute seat changes led to the middle seat in my row being filled by a thick-accented Greek fellow whose name I don’t remember. We became good friends.
Takeoff was fine. As soon as the TVs were enabled, I started flipping through the channels to see what I could watch. Bravo! was showing the entire current season of Top Chef. I started watching, but during the first commercial break I switched over to Antiques Roadshow. I started talking to the Greek guy next to me about how a really fun drinking game can be played, where people watching the show guess how much an antique is worth, and if the prediction is not within a certain pre-determined dollar amount, they have to drink. We decided to play a few rounds.
Two hours later, both shockingly buzzed, we realized that we were watching Antiques Roadshow UK, which airs on the BBC Network. We kept saying “I bet that’s worth five-thousand dollars,” without realizing that all the values were being given in British Pounds. That’s when the game got complicated. Imagine being several glasses of red wine into an elementary math-related drinking game, and suddenly you realize their are conversions and exchange rates to be taken into account. That’s when things got sloppy. What the hell is ₤400 anyway? And how come there aren’t any valuable British antiques?! We kept hearing people effervescently praise old dolls and paintings, and they’re worth “a hundred quid”. What the fuck is a quid? A dollar? I don’t get it! Anyway, we got trashed. Another game happened upon us by surprise as we were playing Antiques Roadshow Drinking Game. I named it The Let’s See Who Can Hold Their Piss Longer Game. The rules were that you had to announce the minute you first felt like you had to take a piss, and then the timer started. He who held out longest, won. I held my piss for 3.5 hours. It was excruciating. I don’t remember hearing him saying he had to piss, which was kind of amazing.
My mom found me at the airport. Apparently some roads were closed in the area because the President was flying out of Newark Airport after a day stumping for John Corzine or something. Air Force One was on the tarmac, but on the opposite side of the plane, so I didn’t get to see it. Everyone else went picture crazy when they saw it. I took a picture of the moon but it came out blurry. So, mom picked me up and I told her about my Greek friend and our game playing. She took me home and fed me chicken parmigiana with a mixed greens salad and garlic bread. I ate too much, but it was really good.
We hung out and chatted about life and recent events for a few hours, and then I got a text from my father saying he was home alone receiving a medical treatment, and wondered if I wanted to stop by and say hello. I was a bit hesitant to go, because I haven’t seen him in a long time, and was unsure what to expect following his recent hospitalization. It was really good to see him, if a bit upsetting. He sounded upbeat about his health, so that helped settle my nerves and emotions. We chatted about local politics and business, as those are the two topics he enjoys most. I spent a little over an hour with him, and then drove back to my mom’s place.
Gail Simmons was nowhere to be seen on Top Chef tonight, but according to her Twitter she’ll be back next week. I know I’ve stated before that my intentions with Gail (I’m on a first name basis with her — she doesn’t know I exist) are purely comedic and non-threatening, but I plan on stalking her for the duration of my vacation. I’ll let you know if I see her or her breasts during one of my trips into the city.
Speaking of which, let’s try something! If any of you readers live in the New York/New Jersey area, let’s put together a Swan Fungus meet-and-greet. You can buy me a drink, and I’ll decided whether or not I want to talk to you. It’ll be amazing. If this sounds like something that would interest you, e-mail me or find me on Facebook. I’ll make sure to arrange the meet-up somewhere with metal detectors, so don’t even think about bringing any concealed weapons. You won’t get anywhere near me with ’em.
I’ve got a doctor’s appointment tomorrow morning, but then I hope to rapidly re-adjust myself to East Coast living with some kind of adventure. Stay tuned.
