Alice and I spend the day bandying pitiless non sequiturs and rude noises back and forth in preparation for this evening’s flight to London. Kiffi and Jocelyn will meet us at Terminal Four. Family Adventure Time!
The nonpareils I bought yesterday are gone. How? Plus, I need a pair of dress trousers, I decide at the last minute. Banana, maybe. Will they accommodate a chunky-ass fellow like me? Let’s find out. Yeah, the waist works, but the pants pool at my ankles. I buy ‘em anyway. If I wear my chacha heels, I might carry it off. At Li-Lac I score another box of dark chocolate Valentine-inflected nonpareils. In the entire history of candy these are the best candies. On the way back to 54 Bleecker Street, I poke around the superdupermarket with the idea that we may want a light something to tide us over before the flight to London, which departs at 11pm. Tomato soup and cheese.
I’m packed. Ali’s packed. So, we futz. Ali, of course, reads a book, while I perform nontasks of complex inutility on my reluctant computer. At a quarter to eight we prepare for departure, just like a flight crew. We sit back down.
Then we get up, bundle into our winter coats, and drag our suitcases to the elevator. A cab appears. The driver gets out to help with our luggage. The taxi’s trunk does not open fully. I smack it closed catching the cabbie’s index finger. Blood. He has a roll of paper towel for occasions just like this. There’s no real traffic. And there’s Kif. In minutes, there’s Joss, all leopard print and black Converse hi-tops.
At the ticket agent, our bags are weighed. My little guy registers 33 pounds. This provokes snickers from the women, whose dainty valises barely tip the scale above 20. Security offers no resistance. We must kill time, so if we can locate the Sky Lab; perhaps they’ll let us in. Snacking on cheese cubes and party mix, we babble in the animated pre-exhausted way of unembarked travelers. Nosh. Nosh. Nosh. Joss looks up and remarks, “That’s my friend, Julie,” and off she goes. Soon enough she returns with Julie, one of her performer colleagues. Julie lives part time in London and is returning to attend the second wedding of her sister-in-law. We board.