Ten planes in five weeks… I don’t hardly ever look out the window anymore. 14D, this is the seat on this plane with the busted light, isn’t it?… dang it.
I don’t know if I like the fact that every morning when I leave the hotel, between my door and the parking deck about a half a dozen uniformed people wish me a good day… even less the fact that the concierge knows me by name. There’s something a little awkward about having your butt kissed because it’s policy. I don’t think I could ever get used to it. And though it’s nice coming home after the end of a 14 hour day to a clean room, it’s also a little unsettling knowing that all my stuff was touched by someone I never met. She didn’t take her tip today… I wonder if should I double it tomorrow.
People are actually jealous that I come out to L.A. so often… as if they’re playing calypso music and have pretty girls dressed in grass skirts waiting to greet me as I get off the plane. Perhaps they envision me lounging on the beach with a laptop and getting a massage while I ask my secretary to hold my calls. The reality is that after shoving my way out the airport and past the gruff arrivals who have been waiting 5 long hours to have a smoke, I wait on the curb for the rental car shuttle that wisks me off to my flavorless vehicle, from where I unceremoniously drive directly to my sterile hotel and unpack my stuff and fall into bed. The next day after having the same continental breakfast I’ve had hundreds of times before in the concierge lounge, I get back in my rental and say goodbye to the sun as I prepare to work in a windowless lab for the next 12-14 hours. Then I come home and channel or web surf until my eyes get too heavy and repeat the cycle until I’m summoned home again.
Every once and again the boredom and loneliness is broken by a visit with a friend or family member… but much of the time I feel like I’m intruding into their lives. I don’t come so often as to just make this place my home, but I come too often for any of them to miss me too much. So I sit here with my bottle of vodka and bucket of ice in front of my computer and my $10-a-day hotel broadband access wondering if I’ll ever miss this life when I’m too old or too unwilling to do it. I doubt it.
awwwwwwwwww *hugs*
Stick it to the Man. the Man always trying to keep you down.
u should try rum somtimes instead of vodka. rum makes me giddy, perhaps it will make u happy as well.