| |
“So Cal, how was New York?”
“I really can’t remember. Most of the time, I was pretty drunk.”
When the ice exploded in my Jack Daniel's in the airport departure lounge three hours before take-off I had the feeling then that I shouldn’t have gotten on this flight, but I had dismissed it as pre-flight jitters and here I am, in another fucked up situation that’s beyond my control. One of the engines has just blown and the pilot’s voice – at least I’m assuming it’s the pilot – coming over a speaker is telling us to, “Stay calm, follow the instructions of the flight attendants” who are nowhere to be seen but are more than likely attending to the needs of the first class passengers. I look around me. People are starting to get agitated but there are no hysterics, just an overwhelming sense of perhaps fear and urgency.
Conversations continue around me.
“But what if this is the last chance we get? Who knows what’s going to happen?”
An American guy in his forties seated next to me is whispering something to the younger woman next to him.
“But I don’t even know you, are you married?” she replies while kissing his face and hugging him. “Shouldn’t we at least go into the toilet?”
“No, screw that, baby, there’s no time. My wife would understand. Probably the only time she would. Honestly, I don’t think we’re going to make it out of this.”
His voice drips with desperation, but he has absolutely no trouble whatsoever unbuttoning her shirt. He then starts to pull off her skirt and she slides on top of him. And then, then they begin fucking right next to me. Or are they just dry humping? Two hours ago he was showing me photographs of his wife and kids, telling me they were the most important thing in the world to him along with his medical practice on Long Island. Now Dr. Love is going at it hammer and tongs with a complete stranger.
I wait for the attendant to come over to put an end to this not altogether unpleasant impromptu show, but she doesn't, and then I hear it, low at first but then louder, groaning and moaning coming from all round me. I look up over my seat.
“Oh, Hank I love you. Harder push it in harder, I told you that Viagra was a good idea.”
Never mind the Viagra this is 100% Hank you’re getting. Feel the love, honey.”
This guy, who is at least in his seventies, is giving it to his wife from behind in the seat right in front of me. His wife’s face is contorted into some sort of rapturous mask, as she looks over the head rest, ten inches from me, and stares at me directly in the eyes. This cannot be the last thing I’m going to see before I die. The plane shakes violently from side to side and I grip the armrests as the plane suddenly dips and we go into what feels like freefall for about twenty seconds before the shaking begins again.
Two women to the left of me are kissing and pulling off their tops. One of them suddenly stands up and starts rummaging in the overhead locker,
“What are you looking for babe?”
“My strap on, I know it's in here, it’s a new one, The Dominator, I was gonna' surprise you with it at the hotel.”
“You’re so thoughtful. And that is why I love you.”
Finally the Captain comes running out, shouting, “People, people.”
These guys are for it now; this is bound to be against some sort of air flight regulations. “This is looking bad, but please remain calm, or as calm as you can. Candy, honey, get over here.”
The air hostess with the improbable name throws down the miniature bottles of vodka she’s been downing and runs down the aisle, stripping off as she does. She jumps into the Captain’s arms and he then carries her through the cockpit door.
This is too much. Now the crew is having sex. It's like being in an interactive in-flight porno and here I am sitting watching it on my own. Economy class has become a mass of writhing bodies and God only knows what’s going on in first class. Caligula is probably presiding over them with champagne and cocaine as they screw their way to oblivion. The doctor turns his head and looks directly into my eyes.
Between each thrust he grunts the words, “Seize..the...day...bro.”
“Yeah, loser, do something, you’re about to die, ya’know,” his almost satisfied partner shouts at me, sweat glistening across her forehead.
I sit gripping the armrests as the plane starts to dive, the face of the old woman going back and forwards in front of me, sucking on an oxygen mask and giving muffled words of encouragement to Hank. It only takes one over eager thrust before I see her front teeth hit the inside of the mask. I have no idea what to do now. Jerking off comes to mind, but I know I couldn’t do that. It would just be too, I don’t know, embarrassing? What if we make it out of this? Someone on this plane is no doubt recording this on their phone right now and I would no doubt end up as a viral online video before the plane even lands, entitled, Loser caught jerking off when faced with death.
I look at the doctor’s face and my eyes fix on a drop of sweat, which runs down his forehead to the end of his nose. As I watch, the droplet begins to fall, but then slows down until completely motionless, hanging in mid-air. As a I look at it the liquid I can see the blurry image, someone’s reflection, someone who is trying to open the passenger door. I look towards the door where a woman, her face blurred because of the shaking of the plane, stares back at me for a split-second before being violently sucked through the door as the plane hits freefall again and starts hurtling downward.
The girl next to me grabs my shoulder and grinds down harder, screaming, “Oh. My. God. What a rush...”
“Sir, sir we’ve landed you can depart now.”
I open my eyes and look around at the empty seats, the air stewardess in front of me, her hand shaking my shoulder.
“We’re here?”
“Right on schedule. Welcome to New York.”
I had missed the view of New York’s skyline from the air. It had taken me thirty years to get here, and I’ve missed it.
Never, ever, take ecstasy a few days before you fly. The nightmares will fuck with your head for weeks.
LONDON
January