As the plane touched down in Hong Kong (I was flying Emirates and arguably could have stayed on for another 9 hours, it's that good) I was like a little kid who was excited to do something awesome. I could barely contain myself, but knew I had to since that's the sort of thing society tells us to do. Anyway, I kept repeating to myself the short list of things I had to accomplish before I could finally be immersed in HK: get off that plane, walk through the airport, get through passport control, get my bag, exchange money, get on the Airport Express, and get up some escalators before I would be back in my seat at Red... reunited with friends.
This last escalator situation was adorable because I had a 20 kilo backpack in my left hand (literally dragging it on the floor) was carrying my smaller backpack like a briefcase in my right hand and my heavier than normal with all my airplane goodies pocket purse draped across myself. I was running, as best as one can with all that added weight, while in a dress. I didn't want them to wait! Already, I had thought I'd be there by 7 and it was 7:TWENTY-FIVE.
I even put on lipstick.
And there they were! Waiting for me. Drinks in hand. Chicken wings on the table. Standing with arms open ready to embrace their friend. It was heartwarming, delightful: I felt like Helen Mirren. (You know, the Queen OR a bodacious 70 year old.)
IN REALITY:
45 minutes later they came. My lipstick had faded and my pride was in the shitter. No seriously guys, you are too fucking kind. [Let's be honest: I have no pride.]
Granted I was only waiting for two people, but the rate of return on that bet was starting to hit me right in the testicles.
My feelings? Devastated. I felt like a real numb nuts. A big old Loser. A piece of shit on the bottom of your shoe, an old smelly tennis sneaker worn only when you are digging graves for dead rats.
It was as if they were saying: Welcome back to Hong Kong, you insignificant hairy mole on the face of an ugly fat man.
Friends? More like pieces of fucking shit.
3 comments:
Maxine and Brian?
That sucks they made you wait on a popular rooftop bar listening to tasteful music and sipping ambrosial drinks while the epic Victoria Harbor light show glittered in the background.
we will be at logan airport on sunday early....we may go saturday night..and you dont even LIKE us
xo
ellas mom
the above comment by "whitney" was clearly not written by the author. i suggest, Attila, angry at all this alone time, forged my password and went for it. Well at least Attila is the man, that's for sure.
Post a Comment