Current mood: amused
So, I am to fly to NYC today for meeting stuff. Work stuff. I get to the airport and I wait. 10:06 am flight. Time passes. I wait.
30 minute delay, 1 hour delay, 1.5 hour delay. Move to another gate. 2 hour delay. Move to another gate. 2.5 hour delay.
Three. Hour. Delay.
I watch a vaguely handsome somewhat foreign guy brood out the window. He needs a haircut. I take his picture. I imagine vaguely handsome foreign guy sitting next to me on the plane while we have witty banter and talk about the world. We'd be fabulous in our little metal tube, talking about the little people, the what do you do's and the ways of the world.
I get on the plane and sit in front of the amish couple and their horrible baby. Yes, of course that's the kind of luck I have. Vaguely handsome foreign guy is in business class. Probably talking to some fabulous woman about the little people, the haves and the have nots.
I get to JFK and get into the taxi of the only cab driver in New York who is actually from New York. He's from Queens.
"Where you from?" says Queens cabbie.
Michigan, I say.
Oh yeah? How's it in Michigan?
Fine. Hot, rainy, cold, whatever. We go on with the small talk for a minute or two.
I see, says Queens cabbie. What you in New York for?
I explain how my boss lives here and I have work to do. He says, "What? you not gonna go out and have a little fun? Meet some guys?"
No, I say. I'm married.
So? He says.
Yeah, I say. I don't do that. While I'm married I play by the rules.
Oh yeah? He says. My friends don't do that, they go out, they have their "fun" they come home. Nobody knows. You do what chu gotta do.
I think to myself of Tony Soprano, how he would go out and have his fun and then return home to his wife. I express my better judgment and don't bring up Tony Soprano, after all, cabbie is from Queens and Tony Soprano was from Jersey.
You know what you need to do? He says to me. You need to get laid. You gotta go out and get you a guy or a girl or whatever works for you. Get spanked and tied up, some candle wax dripped on your ass or somethin.'
I laugh at Queens cabbie.
Yeah he says, you go out wit me, let Pete pick you up and take you out, show you a good time, you need to get laid.
The back of his neck resembles a package of hot dogs. I would certainly not go out with Pete. Single or not.
Noooo, I say. Not that kind of girl.
I spend the next hour of the longest cab ride of my laugh alternately laughing at Queens cabbie and denying his persistent requests to go out.
"How long you been with your guy?" he asks.
Nine years, I say.
Nine years!! Woah, I'm never gettin married. Gotta try em all. C'mon. You got the perfect job, you can have a guy here, a girl there. Go out wit me.
Ha ha, Queens cabbie. No. Not today, not ever, though it was flattering of you to persistenly ask. Good night!