Plane Flight to Homelessness. (Part 1)

Plane Flight to Homelessness. (Part 1)

Have you ever been to London? It’s a great fucking place despite the shitty weather and people telling you that it’s not a great place. The history, the music, the teeth. Of course, who could forget that incredible English food? I mean, you can honestly have anything in a fucking sandwich there. Yay! Sandwiches! I have to say though; half the fun of it is the plane flight there and then of course, the arrival.

So I show up at the airport with a few hours to spare. You know, being a good traveler, you’ve got to do these things. That and also, there are several bars in the airport. So I sit down and have a beer, which in a short amount of time, quickly turns into several. After sitting by my lonesome, thinking about how long it has been since I’ve seen my girlfriend (who I’m meeting in Amsterdam) I decide its time for a cigarette.

I head out to the magnificent smoking balcony that Brisbane International Airport has provided for society’s curse that is the cigarette smoker. They have to provide for everyone right? They have prayer rooms, red rooster and a children’s playground so a smoker’s balcony is just another care filled attribute. Anyway, I get into conversation with a bulldyke from South Africa, who frankly scares the absolute shit out of me. I mean this chic was like Fred Durst. Backwards hat clad, angry and constantly talking about breaking shit. After listening to her talk about Korn’s latest album for 20 minutes, I realize that I am too scared of her to disagree with anything she says. I also realize that my flight boarded 10 minutes ago and that they are calling my name throughout the whole airport over the loudspeaker.

I drag my trashed ass over to the plane. It was pathetic really. I cross that stupid bridge thing that extends to the plane and I enter the aircraft. Keep in mind the whole plane has boarded and are looking at me like I’m Bono. They think I’m a total cunt. I get to my seat, order a few more beers and after a while pass out. I wake up in Singapore.

Singapore was a breeze. Probably because I don’t remember much of it. There was this bar called Harry’s that had a cactus garden where I decided to have a few Singapore Slings. When is the next time I would actually be in Singapore, honestly? I guess it was the cultural aspect that pushed me to do so as well as the fact that I needed to inebriate myself further for the next flight. ….

Ahh, the fabled next flight. It’s a little longer than the first hell ride so I have plenty more time to make an ass out of myself. I get to my seat and find out that I’m sitting next to a Kenyan exchange student. We get into talking about fellow Kenyan Barack Obama winning the United States Presidency. Its all totally cool until he starts becoming a little scared when I start slurring about what a “sick cunt” he is. I guess this term doesn’t have as much credibility in Kenya as it does in Australia. Who would have thought?

Anyway, the Kenyan finally passes out and I’m still ordering drinks like Shane MacGowan. I decide it might be best to get some sleep, as I have to get on another plane to Amsterdam when I arrive in London. I am stashing my empty beer cans under the Kenyan’s seat so that the stewardesses don’t see them thus cut off my booze supply. I pass out. I wake up and the plane is descending. Not such a bad plan after all.

I decided to pull the bag from under the Kenyan’s seat to show him how many beers I had actually drank in some sort of retarded plan to save face from before. He was disgusted to say the least but still hid it under a friendly smile. The plane lands and we hear over the loudspeaker that this is the coldest winter London has had in twenty years. Everything is covered in ice and snow. My plane for Amsterdam leaves in 3 hours and I realize at this point that it does not leave from Heathrow. It leaves from City airport. Which is one of the five airports in London and also way the fuck across the other end of the city.

To be continued in Part 2…