Its go time

I am writing this already 25 hours into a trip that is far from over. Basically last night I took a 13.5 hr flight to Delhi, India. From there I will connect to Mumbai where I will connect again to Hyderabad. Though I am just over the hump now, too much has already happened to not share...

Life Lesson #1: DON'T GET A RIDE TO NEWARK INTERNATIONAL FROM SOME GIRL YOU ARE KINDA FRIENDS WITH AND HOOKED-UP WITH A FEW TIMES A FEW YEARS AGO AND TAKE A CAB YOU IDIOT!

Yeah, I am all for being good to people and maintaining friendships but the rewards of a free ride (which is expensable) and being nice do not compare to the risk of missing a flightyourcompanyispayingfor which spans two days and five time zones. Now for the readers at home unfamiliar with New York allow me to paint a picture: a ride from mid-town Manhattan to Newark Airport in New Jersey on a Sunday evening should take 50 min max. Flight is at 8:50pm. Its my first international flight from this airport so let's be safe and arrive 2hrs early. I ask her to pick me up at 6pm (read: should give me 2+ hrs at airport).

So this chick shows up late, all smiles, and already my gut tells me to grab a yellowcab but the ingrained-to-be-nice-to-all-people-no-matter-what-quality-drilled
-into-me-by-my-parents prevails and I get in her crusty Rav-4. In all fairness to Christina, who I have not seen for over a year and turned down several of her attempts to meet-up cuz she just didn't seem to score to high on sanity aptitude tests, she did offer to give me a ride as means to catch up. Turning down nice gestures is not my style as being kind is very important. But why do I get myself in situations like this? No answer comes to mind so like most New Yorkers, I blame my mother. Shortly into the trip I notice we are headed to a tunnel that doesn't seem to be one that will bring us closer to my destination. Travis does not like this.

At this point she overlaughs at some tepidly witty comment I make and in that instance four notions flash in my mind:

1)This girl wants another chance
2)The traffic into this tunnel is like a parking lot
3)What the hell am I doing in some girl's car less than 12 hours after Natalie left from her week long visit (more to come on Natalie and this point soon)
...and loudest of all...
4) You are a dumbass for this.

I have to make this flight. So as Christina yapps about her dream of law school had to be postponed for her dream of producing film (which didn't explain why she just took a part time job in a data management role that allows her to work at home and requires her to call 4 software programmers who also work at home, an effort she is quick to identify as "managing". The job was given to her by her friend because he didn't like to see her "not being productive in her life". I am not omnipotent nor-a self made millionaire but when a person reveals they work from home I think they are generally on the slow track to success and tend to live in a world of bullshit. All of the reasons I stopped taking this girl's calls a while ago are becoming crystal clear. Damn her sexy Latina vibe and broad smile! Sub life lesson: people without W-2s are not good choices to get you to important flights) all I can think of is the time. My eyes are locked on the dashboard clock and I don't like that it is now 7:04.

I interrupt "Should we be taking the Holland Tunnel?"
"Don't worry tiger"

Tiger! Tiger!?! Woman, you never came close to qualifying yourself as someone worthy of giving me a pet name and who the hell are you to tell me when to worry!? I graduate from the schools I attended. I start my work day before 1pm. And this Tommy Chong attitude isn't getting us any closer to my plane!

7:22. Even for a domestic flight I would not want to be here. It is go time. The look and comment I gave her worked because one illegal u-turn later and this Dominican bohemian morphed into Mario Andretti.

Then she reminds me why some people shouldn't talk by adding "Don't worry, I know a few people that work at Continental in Newark"

The fact your fat cousin Chulo is a baggage handler at an airport that employs over 3000 people does not calm me!

Soon we are flirting with 93mph on the NJ turnpike and I feel the pangs of karma. Karma that tells me that I will die at the age of 27, on a freeway with someone meaningless to me because I used questionable judgment in picking transportation methods and let some dumb chick think she has a shot at the title.

Somehow I live. Lesson 1? Learned.