Spent the weekend in solitude listening to Michael Buble and working on my presentation slides for the San Diego project. There is a pattern of sobriety and calmness that can only be experienced in isolation, not that I recommend it all the time.
Somewhere over the Mississippi...Sunday 5.05pm
Cocooned in between a cute Indian chick and a mother with a cute curly haired kid clad in a red Aeropostale shirt. Not the classic seat I'd say, gotta upgrade to Business class! On a side note, my body wash and body lotion never made it outta Newark, had a flight restriction slapped on them. Curly hair is raising the volume on his screams, so I tune out the noise and drift into pseudo-consciousness whilst basking in the fragrance of Armani Code
Parenthood is not rocket science but it sure ranks close to it. Deciphering the whims and screams of a child can be nerve-racking. Curly hair is throwing a mini tantrum! When I was 9, my best friend was aged 2. It was tough at first to understand his gibberish speech, it wasnt like the Navi language of Avatar, it was more cryptic. But I did learn and we developed our own communication syntax. His eyes could almost see into ur soul, I believe he spoke alot more with his eyes. Sometimes I think thatz why I avoid eye contact till date. He passed away before he was 4, I never really understood why he had to leave earth but he left me with a gift. I never realized it, people say I am a baby/child magnet. Dunno why, I just understand kids.
I often dream about fatherhood even though I am single. Don't ask me why I am single. In the depth of the different shades of excuses lies a hidden truth unknown to me. In a previous lifetime I was called the "Forbidden Fruit". Never understood why either. In a few days, my niece Kyla will arrive. That may be the catalyst I need to finally look down the aisle.
I really don't understand why people have to use the restroom so frequently. My music tastes are quite eclectic. In my dreams I switch from Michael Buble to Maxwell to Nat King Cole and back to John Legend. Throw in Coldplay as an intermission. Air hostesses are human angels. Up in the clouds, with an ever-present smile, attending to the needs of mortals. I respect them alot.
The exodus to the restroom is amazing. You'd think the crew members were hiding chipmunks in there as an attraction. Curly hair keeps running up & down the plane aisle oblivious to the quizzical expression on the faces of other passengers and ignoring the controlled frustration on his mum's face. How I miss the bliss of childhood.
There must be a fetish about taking a leak way up in the clouds! I simply cannot come up with a logical reason as to why so many people have to use the restroom! It seems I am the only person who hasnt made the trip yet. Maybe I am a robot. Or there might be treasure hidden in the restroom. I'll start watching the facial expressions of the "restroom treasure hunters" for any clues.
One thing is certain, I am definitely not peeing in the clouds, thatz uncouth! Some poor dude may get splashed down in St Louis. Dunno if we are still over Ole Miss.
Mayday, Mayday, the cute Indian chick just joined the exodus. I am the last hope for humanity. Currently activating "bladder-lock mode". Curly hair is smiling at me, more like grinning with evil intentions as if to say "U r next!" Let the mind games begin. I am not losing this battle! I'll rather pee in my mind than step into that restroom.
Time seems to be crawling...
The exodus continues, the tough looking "David Carradine" lookalike fella a few seats away, just gave into the pressure. By my count, there are only 2 mortals left: Yours sincerely and an elderly looking Indian man whose family apparently switched sides to the exodus hours ago.
Make that one mortal left. Gandhi just fell...
I hope the pilot doesnt go to the restroom!
Touchdown...Phoenix, Arizona. See y'all in San Diego!