ooc: Set in first person of Mike, ex The Lost drummer.
Airport
I sat down in the blue chair and looked around at the world rushing around before his eyes. An airport was the only place you’d get people of all shapes, sizes, races and colours just going about their business. It was quite strange actually. Everyone looked so busy. Everyone looked so stressed. Surely that’s not the point of going on a holiday? It’s quite ironic actually. You go on a holiday to get away from wherever you’re from, but you just bring it all with you. When you go on holiday you realise the world around you isn’t the problem, it’s you.
And then of course you get the kids, running around, playing tag. And their parents in hot pursuit, ready to give their children a clip on the ear for embarrassing them.
And then of course you get the craned necks, like dinosaurs, all looking up at the big screens with the plane times. It really was a very animalistic place, an airport. You could be the nicest person in the world but at an airport you’re only ever looking after number 1. Then of course there are the always beautiful stewardesses. It would be Ben’s heaven, here. Even with Leslie tagging along behind him. It was strange actually, with Jess I was never shocked at Ben making an attempt at settling down, but now he’s with Leslie it feels weird. Maybe it’s because Jess liked a bit of a party herself, whereas Leslies a lot more cool and controlled. But still, it can only be a good thing. If Ben’s off the drugs and the drink, then what harm could she be doing him? He’d told me a couple of times that she’d actually let him have a joint or two whilst he was coming down, but nothing else. He’d even given up the fags. Amazing. Cocaine and heroin, the two most addictive drugs in the world and all he needed was Leslie. All he needed was a little cuddle.
In fact, I’m going to meet Ben. He’s in London in his apartment, we’re going on a boys night out, which basically means orange juice and watching some Jazz musician nowadays. In some ways I do miss the old Ben, I do miss the excitement of being around him. But the guy nearly died OD’ing. It was selfish to ever want the old Ben back. And he was still a bag of laughs, and is still great fun to be around, just a lot more mature.
I stood up and joined the herd and looked up at the screen. My flight was in 20 minutes, so I had time to kill. I noticed there was a Smithy’s here and decided to buy a book. Very rockstar. Actually as I got inside and noticed the stares I was getting I decided it’d be better to buy some shitty paper instead. On the front page was some crap about Billy Maddison and that woman of his. Now I like Billy, he’s a good bloke. But why on earth he keeps getting back with her I don't know. I just wish they’d either stay together or Billy should go get on that other girl he dumped the other day. No point in all the confusion and worry.
Still, I was happy, and that was all that mattered. I had no ties, no girlfriend, and no wife. Freedom felt amazing. I could live off the money I’d picked up from The Lost for another good 60 years, but that wasn’t what I wanted to do. I wanted to see the sights, see the amazing things that life had to offer but I had been previously too ignorant to worry about. I was too busy smoking joints and getting pissed to notice that life was too short to be wasted on things like that. And so I made a promise myself to go around the world, backpacking, next year. I would take a bank card round with me and a mobile phone, in case I really did ever get into trouble, but aside from that I would just live. Just travel. I would catch flights only every few months, and I’d trek or hitchhike everywhere else. My first destination was America. I’d buy a fat motorbike with a fat exhaust and a fat engine and just ride around, on my own. Just meeting the people and meeting the nation. And then I’d move onto South America, see the Amazon, live in it. Live life how humans were meant to, you know? Just there, in the rainforest, on my own. Then I’d catch a boat over to Africa, where the adventure really would begin. I planned to work my way around the continent in any job I could find. Making the money as when I could and where I could. I’d move from South Africa up to Egypt, and then cross over into Europe. From there, I could go anywhere. Germany, France, Belgium, Holland – everywhere. Then through to Russia and onto Asia, then right back round to Canada where I’d live a further 6 months, just in the mountains.
Yeah, yeah, you may say I can’t do that and you may say I spend too much time dreaming. But if you never try and chase your dream you’ll never catch it.
End of part 1...
