Airports, Blood Cells, Shit

Posted: 13 March, 2014 in Daily Droppings
Tags: ,

Pulling through airport security, and my head still hurts. Like being hung over but not. Same level of pain, but different. Which is why the usual cure didn’t work.

We don’t have to take her shoes off or anything else and we glide through the metal detector.

Cotton blonde twins, thigh-high, run in and out of the lines tripping people and being nearly trampled underfoot like small dogs. I pick one of them up – the boy I think, I hear them address as both sexes. I think the girl is fatter. – I put it in one of the plastic trays and say I’m sending him through the x-ray machine to see what he’s made of.

His eyes are wide and the father laughs and I let the family go ahead of me since a couple of Ruskie assholes jumped in front of them and the wife seems stressed. The father nods and speaks a thank you and heads on through.

The girl behind me is cute, but of indeterminate age. Once we are on the other side, the father thinks me again and the family walks away, the man carrying a stroller and the wife with bags. They try to hold on to their children with their free hands, but the twins keep letting go and wondering around them as they walk as if they are in a probability cloud. I watched until they turn down a terminal and are gone, with the desire to see one of the kids stepped on by an inconsiderate stranger or clipped on the head by one of those hard bodied suitcases no one carries anymore.

The girl behind me touches my arm and I turned to her. She holds up my scarf in her hand

Here

Thank you

I tell her I like her skirt and we walk together. She’s dressed like a polite teenager from the early 60s with the pageboy haircut. She peels off at her gate and I continue for a few yards longer. When she’s out of sight I double back into the food court, something about the smell of dodgy Chinese food makes me think that greasy noodles, orange chicken, and a Coke my cure my headache.

I finish, I have to shit but I sit and read Notes of a Dirty Old Man for a while instead. Still two hours before my flight

I’ve shit twice today. Both times were watery and week so I think if I hold it in a while longer I’ll be more productive when I do.

On the television there is a reaction to the State of the Union and Assad announcing he will run for re-election.

At my gate I wait for departure on the floor, looking out the window walls seeing the mass of Tarmac fanning out arteries. Planes of full of cells called people. People made of tissue and blood cells and bone.

These weird beasts eating and shitting. Supping down jet fuel shitting out baggage.

And I sit here staring out at my metaphors watching them collapse under their own clichés and overcomplexity

and we are in real-time. Five minutes till boarding, everyone is up. I don’t want to stand. I feel weak and watery, like my shit.

They clip through one after another first-class gold members platinum members military personnel  priority seating those with children those with disabilities group one group two group three it’s overcast as fuck group 4 I can’t see through the windows anymore

group 5. Time to go.

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