Jossy Bop

Listening to T Swift on the plane back from Vietnam and I’m wondering fifteen things: 1) when is the little shit kid next to me going to stop crying, 2) is Taylor swift the best recording artist ever, 3) why would anyone ever want to live in Ho Chi Minh City, 4) how can I live and work in Kanada? 5) why is Shake Shack stock bombing so hard, 6) am I in love with a girl from Idaho? 7) why don’t I wakeboard anymore, 8) why is jetlag worse going east??? 9) why is Vietnamese the ugliest sounding language ever? 10) is the girl from Idaho also in love with me, 11) are dates good for you? 12) who shops at Whole Foods (I mean like actually shops there), 13) why do people think New York is so cool? 14) and conversely why do all traveling Latin Americans go to Boston 15) and last but not least: when am I going to shower?

I’m also wondering if I should get another coffee, since coffee makes me aggressive.

The flight attendants come over the loudspeaker and announce nothing. It sounds like they don’t realize it’s turned on. China Eastern has a reputation for flight attendants who don’t speak English. The lady in front of me asked for “extra salt” earlier and the flight attendant cocked her head, looked at her, and kept walking. This was a bit of a triumph in my eyes because who asks for extra salt? If you ask for extra salt you definitely shouldn’t get it.

Inshiman shinshiman. This aircraft smells like a pit of landfill. The child across the aisle has been screaming non-stop because of bad parenting. And yeah. Pretty much never fly china Eastern if you have the choice between China Eastern and any other airline. It’s not worth it. Doesn’t matter how cheap it is. It’s not worth it.

Inshiman shinshiman. We begin our descent into YVR aiprort. We’re just about to cruise over Vancouver Island, where two friends of my are getting into their wetsuits, ready to paddle out in the icy water. I wish I could be them. Two children have started screaming like someone is suffocating their mothers and no music will shield the sound. Someone is playing Indian music and not wearing headphones. I’ve been on this plane for ten hours and I can’t be positive because I want to fucking get off. The plane. I want to get off. The plane. I want to get off.

Thirty three minutes to go. I put on the song Faded by Alan Walker and we approach the runway with the gracefulness of an east Indian rhino.

We touch down.

The children stop crying.

The sun comes out.

Psych. It’s cold af outside and I don’t have proper footwear.

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