The backpack on my shoulders weighted a ton when the train finally arrived at the platform. The sturdy straps were digging into my skin as if the gravity had been increased 10 times and no one bothered to mention it to me. Or maybe I am accidentally carrying an illegal immigrant in there. Who knows.
I quickly pick up a heavy suitcase next to my leg and drag/force it into the cabin. The seat on the right in the first aisle is empty, which makes me do an internal victory dance. Even better - the seat turns out to actually be relatively comfortable as well; I guess this day can be called moderately tolerable. After this shit year a day with minor annoyances must be considered to be good.
People kept running around, some of them seemed to be in a hurry and some seemed to be genuinely lost. There is only one train on this platform with no assigned seating, how can you get lost? I swear I saw the same middle age woman pass my window at least six times.
My eyes drift to my reflection on the window. Great. The mess that you unfortunately have to call my hair is even more wild than usual. All this blonde chaos on top of my head needs a hair band. I automatically reach for my right wrist where I usually leave one or two hair bands, slide my fingers under the sleeve and… Oh shit. I forgot. I forgot the hair bands. How the hell did I forget something that is always and I mean ALWAYS on my hand? I mean, I even had them on when I went to my aunt's third wedding. To be fair, I forgot to take them off and when my mom noticed it they disappeared sooner than you could say "what". So how does an object that is never removed or even remembered gets left behind is beyond me.
Am I starting to lose memories?
Or even better, am I starting to sleepwalk?
Am I getting this crazy?
My thumb slides over the vertical scar marking my skin. This is perfect. I'm going away for months and here I am losing my last drops of sanity.
Someone coughs and I look up. A middle age man, whose face seems to be borrowed from a 1930s gentleman with its upwards pointed moustache, thick permanently frowning eyebrows and dull dry skin, is gesturing at the seat where I put my backpack on. I remove it and he flops down already interested in the newspaper he was carrying under his arm. He kind of reminds me of the monopoly guy. I find myself secretly wishing he would pull out a top hat and a monocle. It would make such a great story over a pint of beer…
The train seems to be ready to move. I instantly take out my iPod out of my pocket and put the earphones in. The monopoly guy glances towards me and looks back to his paper. I guess he just wanted to make sure that I am sane and not pulling out a gun or an atomic bomb. My hair seems to make people think I just escaped a mental institution… the irony is not lost on me. To be fair, the weather is very windy so it's not completely my fault that I look like I cook crystal meth in my basement.
"Ticket, please."
I focus my attention on the inspector guy while rummaging through my pockets. He seems to be in his thirties, fairly good-looking if you are into the whole penis kind of thing. He sort of has that old school Italian immigrant vibe; you know which one I'm talking about, the one that whenever you see any old picture of immigrants in America they all have that same look. He is only missing the hat thing and I could call him Mr. Corleone. Though it's probably the horrible conditions of transportation and difficult life as an immigrant itself that had them giving off a similar vibe. Ok, back to my ticket… I swear to god if I left it at home as well… nope, its right here. Monopoly guy gets his ticket back and stuffs it in his pocket, while the inspector guy checks mine. He soon tears a side of it and gives it back to me. I look down while putting it back in my pocket and notice that the inspector guy is still standing next to us. I lift my gaze and see that he is tilting his head and is slightly smirking. I raise an eyebrow. He shows his perfect smile and says.
"A girl like you should smile more."
Wow. Hitting on girls while doing your job. Impressive. And even with wonderful and trustworthy pickup lines. I'm flattered.
"A girl like me doesn't need be told what I should and should not do."
I look back to my earphones and try to untangle them. How the hell they got tangled in the one minute that I wasn't looking at them is beyond my comprehension of science. The inspector grunts and walks off. Yup really sexy. Grunting when you don't get your way. A lot of people do that… they're mostly under the age of 12, but hey… I guess we won't be able to be best friends forever. Tragic loss.
The corner of monopoly guy's lips seems to be slightly curled. I guess we just bonded over our distaste of misogyny.
I successfully untangle the earphones and put them in. Few hours left until I arrive at my station, time to take a nap. I close my eyes just as the train starts to move.
The journey begins.
When I finally open my eyes, monopoly guy is drinking coffee and doing a crossword puzzle. Of course you are, you are so the intellectual type. But wait… he has coffee… Did the snack cart pass by? Oh man… I wanted coffee… and a Snickers bar… and a few cookies… and stuff…
I internally sigh and look back to the window. There is a cheek shaped spot on the glass where my face was resting while I was sleeping. The scenery is indicating that we should reach the destination soon. That's good because I don't think I can sit here any longer and bare the guy next to me slurping his coffee in an overly joyful manner. Yeah, yeah, we both know you have the nectar of gods in your hands, no need to make your orgasm face.
The train starts lowering its speed and I carefully untangle my hair with my fingers. Who said you need a comb for this task. The monopoly guy stands up and moves to the door. Oh. He's one of those people. The ones that stand next to the doors until they open, even though there is still around 5 minutes of waiting left. The same ones that stand up in the planes that just landed and block the exit.
I slowly pull out my backpack out of between my legs and set in on the monopoly guy's seat. A quick look inside and I find my wallet. By the time I take out the money and throw the wallet back in, the train completely stops and the doors open. Monopoly guy fleas the cabin and I put the backpack back on my shoulders. Definitely did not miss this weight. I grab my suitcase and leave the train. I need to buy some hair bands somewhere. In this busy town I do stumble across a shopping mall. Excellent. People seem to be quite in a hurry, running around, shouting. Maybe it's the tourists… but no, the tourists do the opposite – they barely move and take up way too much space on the streets… It's probably just annoyed town citizens, since the cruise leaves today there's probably tons of tourists marching around and pissing everyone off. I guess they are regretting living in a town with a harbor. God damn tourism, bringing in money into this town's economy and what not…
The shopping mall looks like every single shopping mall there is – big, white, boring and with too many people with kids. I stroll down the path, maneuvering between the people with an oversized suitcase in my hands. I keep telling myself that if I knock a child over it's totally not my fault. I notice a shop that might sell what I need and instantly move towards it. I need to get out of his building as soon as I can. Too many obnoxiously loud people for my liking… I know… I'll be spending a long time on a restricted amount of space with loads of people soon so this should not be so bad. But it is. It just is.
I quickly scan over the aisles and notice the hair accessories. Praise Jesus. There's a lot of variety but simple black ones will be good enough, I don't want to stand here longer than I need to. Who cares about fashion in the middle of the sea.
All the self-checkouts are busy so I unenthusiastically stand in line. In front of me there are at least 6 people. Damn it. I twist the merchandise between my fingers and overhear a female voice behind me talking with someone. I glance back and only see the back of a girl that is talking. There are at least two more people really interested in what she is saying. And why wouldn't you. Even her back is good-looking. Perfect body, perfect clothes, perfect dark hair, and perfect complexion. How can it be physically possible to even have a back this hot? I mean those tight jean shorts show off her attributes wonderfully, even the loose top that she has on somehow still says that she has incredible upper body. Why must such beautiful people exist? Why must they make me feel like a man in a desert with the oasis in front of their eyes? I mean I'm one step away from drooling. Honestly I might even be doing that right now, I don't know and I'm fairly sure I don't even care if I did. I rip my eyes off of her and look at the front of the line angrily. I hear her laugh that is followed by a few guys laughing with her. She is so that type, the type that think they can get anyone or anything they want. They are overly confident and show off every attribute they have at every given chance. Yes, flirt with those guys, why not, you are the perfect human being, that's your purpose really. Like a pretty decoration be there and make others gaze at you longingly while not contributing anything intellectual to the conversation. We get it, you are incredibly good-looking, I'm so happy for you.
Soon enough I purchase the hair bands and walk out of the confined capitalism worship space. Oh fresh air, how I missed you. I fish out a pack of cigarettes and light one. Fuck you, fresh air, don't judge me.
The walk towards the harbor itself isn't long, only around 15 minutes. I manage to finish my cigarette and feel slightly more relaxed. I still need to call my mom to let her know I'm still a functioning member of society, but this can wait for a bit. First I need to find the ship. I wonder how many scenarios has my mom imagined of my ship going down like a titanic. I hope she imagined me as Rose… no, wait, as Jack… I want to be with Rose a lot more…
The harbor is full of ships, but only one really stands out that I'm pretty sure is mine. I mean… I'm going on cruise ship; I doubt 100 people would fit in a fishing boat…
Stopping by close to the ship right under a tree I take out my phone and light another cigarette. If I go through them at this rate, soon I will end up spending all my salary on the cancer sticks.
"Hello?"
"Hey, mom" I say and slowly exhale the smoke while turning my face away from the phone.
For some reason I don't like when my mom knows I smoke and when I don't. Childish and immature, I know. Oh well, one more character flaw I have, yay me.
"How is travelling?"
"Good, I'm already here, just, you know, figured I should let you know I arrived."
"Oh that's great, how does the boat look? Is it big? Are there a lot of people? Have you met the crew yet?"
"Mom, calm down. The ship looks… ship-y, you know, like all ships, white and big. There is quite a bit of people and no I haven't met anyone since I literally just got here."
"Oooh. When are you leaving?"
My gaze falls on random people stumbling on the cruise , talking to the crew and laughing. I guess they are my future crewmates. They look friendly, that's good. As long as I'm not stuck with anyone annoying I should be ok for the next 3 months.
There are people dressed in white, carrying suitcase, boxes, other shit into the boat and relaxed people dressed in those touristy clothes, that are very loose and very good for air ventilation, walking on board. I guess people are finally gathering.
My mom seems to be talking about something. I vaguely remember that she asked me something and I didn't respond but I guess she figured I'm gathering my thoughts. Plus that gives her a perfect opportunity to vent about things. A wonderful example of a symbiotic family relationship – she needs to talk, I need to reflect. I think she gets the fact that I don't have a lot to say right now. I always did that. Even as a child if I'm slightly nervous I will either talk too much or be quiet and pensive. This probably got worse after this year.
I catch her saying something about our neighbors' new poodle when I say:
"Look, mom, I should go, everyone is gathering. I guess we will be leaving rather soon. I will call you as soon as I can."
"Will you be able to call when you are in the sea?"
"I don't know, possibly, we'll see. I really should go."
"Ok, take care, Arizona, I love you. I hope you'll find what you're looking for."
I can hear from her voice that she is holding back tears. I get it. She vented because she was scared of me leaving and she just wanted me to have some connection with her. I guess I got the talkative personality trait from her. It's strange. I know I should be touched by this but I'm not. I mean… I'm not happy that she is sad, she lost so much already, but… at the same time I don't feel like I care that much. I guess that's the legacy of last year showing up… feeling kind of numb and hollow…
"I will, I love you too, talk to you later."
We end our conversation and I proceed to the ship after I discard the cigarette butt. A short guy with dark hair and dressed in white jumps in front of me. I slightly flinch because of how unexpected this encounter is.
"Good afternoon, can I see your ticket, miss? I will take the suitcase right afterwards."
He shows his smile full force, his prominent dimples giving him boyish charm. Light freckles are visible through his tanned skin on his nose. The fact that his strong jaw line is completely smooth makes me think that it's part of the job to look as presentable as you can. His movements seem to be energetic, but restricted, kind of like a waiter waiting the table at the end of his shift – being extremely tired, but faking it with a wide smile to fool the customer. Another giveaway of his energy level is his light blue eyes – they seem to be slightly dull and unfocused. His left hand is stretched towards me, expecting my ticket; there is a small anchor tattoo visible on the upper part of his arm. It's really close to one the veins that can be easily seen on his skin. For some reason it's one of the things I find unattractive on guys. The whole prominent veins stuff. It's weird, I know. It's just… girls have this smooth skin, the veins hidden deep within. I don't know. It's just… not my thing…
"Hi, I'm not a guest, I'm here for work. I think I need to speak with Mr. Fugazi?"
The guy seems to visibly relax and blow out some air. His wide smile is long gone, shoulders are slumped and he brushes his thick dark hair out of his eyes.
"Yeah, I think he is inside, probably somewhere on deck. Just ask anyone dressed in white if they've seen him."
"Cool, thanks."
"No problem."
I slightly smile and head towards the entrance still dragging around my baggage. I think I can't feel my right hand by now but I still tug it with me towards the stairs, trying to avoid any people in front of me. The haunting realization daunts on me that they are all tourists; therefore they all will be slower than the police arriving to the scene of a racial crime. And I will have to be around this for the next couple of months. Was this my subconscious trying to punish myself in a more creative socially acceptable way?
Thankfully not all the passengers have boarded yet so I can walk up the stairs with relative ease. The deck sports a large pool and tons of lounge chairs. The whole ship is incredibly fancy. Or maybe just very well-maintained. Maybe it's like the Hollywood movie sets – looks strong but actually made out of cardboard. That's slightly creepy. I don't want to be in the middle of the ocean in a cardboard box.