Leaving Town

I saw someone today that I will never see again for the rest of my life. We weren't great friends, probably won't keep in touch, but I think I will miss his possibility. As we went our separate ways, I tried to hold onto the sound of his footsteps in my mind.

I just bought a one-way plane ticket. It's an e-ticket so I don't actually get anything, but the people at the airport are supposed to let me onto the plane when I show them my credit card. It's a red-eye flight that lays over for an hour in Denver around midnight. I get to New York about 6 AM, my first move is going to be to find a good breakfast near La Guardia and wait for family to pick me up at a more reasonable hour. I'll probably blog if they have wireless. That calls for a blog. Buying a plane ticket doesn't really warrant one.The mouse click was similar to the rush a pubescent boy gets when buying a condom he knows he will use someday, maybe years from now. Stepping on the plane will be like unwrapping it with trembling, inexperienced hands. As the nose of the aircraft penetrates the clouds over the Eastern seaboard, I will breathe deeply towards the touchdown, and feel somewhat more like a man.

I'm doing my best to spent as much time outdoors as is sensible, thats what I will miss most. As spring approaches, it feels like my last. I'm going to go on a hike somewhere that has wireless, that might be tough to find. The air here is like a hangover remedy for me, out there I don't know what I'm going to do on those mornings. I might have to cut back on my drinking.

Worst-case scenario # 104: I get mugged before I can get deposit money in some broker's fat little hands. With, no address I can't get a job, so I live in a hostel and read dollar books from the Strand until my credit card is declined and I am forced to sell my laptop for a bus ticket to San Diego to live on my brother's couch and work for the parks department. Still beats Ashland.

Best-case scenario # 8: I wind up working as MC at a Karaoke bar frequented by actors and business men. I swoon the girl of my dreams with a steamy version of Bob Seger's "We've got Tonight." She lives with me down the street from the bar and we get free bar bites at 3 AM after I get off. My classes are in the early evening before work and I get up early to walk our dog through Central Park. Still don't have it made.

I'd say the worst thing I could ever lose, worse than losing money, jobs, respect things, my mind, my sight, would be to lose my appetite. I lost it to sudden nausea during a luncheon and I felt impotent as hot noodles mocked me from the plate below. As long as I have my appetite life is worth living, at least for one more meal. I hope leaving town makes me hungrier, even if I can't afford to eat.