Wed 16 June 198X - the projected date
accidental first class - all around me are the privileged - though the two across the roomy aisle talking about "I want to buy land in Pensacola" and "nice airplane huh" I expect are bragging. I'm trying to seem accustomed - but at the gate - oh, you can just go ahead and I'll pick up your pass at your seat - drinks right off the bat and I forgot cocktails are free up here and ordered club soda. I should be the classic and say I need a drink after that ride out here. Jane and I smoked a quirl and I was stoned at the restaurant - delightfully so - but terrified in the car, of course. Every car going the opposite way was headed straight for us - I couldn't look.
Everything I have on - necklace, shirt, skirt, shoes - is from the thrift store. tee hee. I wonder if the lavabo is different here. A bidet?
I should have the aplomb of this girl here w/ clogs kicked reading the op-ed page w/ pleasant frown. Instead I can't get settled - it's from running to the far-away gate - I keep pulling out crayons and such. The whithered black woman ahead is doing find-a-words! great! The man next to me has finished his cocktail and we're still taxiing. I wish I was airy. I think I look it, though. I wonder if I could finish the joint up here? I don't want to talk to this man, either. Stay busy. Loud guys across the aisle are so boring. Managerial types. Iranian-looking one keeps looking at me. Miss cool is reading every word. Oh, he was a manager of Victoria Station.
Ha ha, whoopie. I wonder what they think I am.
Across the aisle: "NY style - nice, classy - not expensive, but classy. Standup railing stock exchange type of bar."
"Ticker tape - go after the big money. "
"$200,000 would do it."
"I'm totally first class."
"Not punk, you know, but new-wave-punk."
"Yeah, I hear 688's doing real well. It's the only real one left you know."
"Yeah I'm talking big money. We've got to look into that, David."
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