Text 27312, 121 rader
Skriven 2009-08-09 17:44:00 av MICHAEL LOO (1:123/140)
Ärende: life=interesting 007
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More errands and phone calls and paperwork, and I hate it down
here, which is why I seldom plan for more than a quick overnight.

Took a whole slew of buses and one short leg on the subway and
got to the airport for $5-odd rather than the 9.80 it normally
takes, but maybe 20 minutes extra. H'm, $14 an hour, not bad.

US4154 BWI LGA 1900 2010 DH8 4A

I took an earlier trip so as to get to the airport and Bill
Bateman's, which I had noted as being willing to cook me a rare
burger. So I got there 2 hours before my flight and made a
beeline for the place, where the bartender informed that they
did not and never did serve rare burgers. I pointed out that not
long ago I had had one and pleaded with her to ask the kitchen;
the best she offered was to call over the restaurant area waiter,
who looked like her dim overgrown son, who said that they might
deign to make a medium-rare burger, but no less. Now I know what
medium-rare means at a burger joint, and I shuddered. I told them
that I would be out of there if they didn't agree to make me a
rare burger. They didn't, and they lost out on a potential $23
sale, counting the beers.

Security had this big huge line, and out of orneriness (I now had
a bunch of time and didn't have to do this) I flashed my gold
card and went through the priority/crew lane in about 90 seconds.
But what to do about my growling tum? Noplace in the sterile area
even pretends to make an edible, much less a rare, burger. Went to
Manchu Wok to see if there was anything interesting, which of
course there wasn't; $2.75 for a not-too generous or fresh-looking
slice of pizza at Mamma Ilardo's didn't seem attractive, so Micky
Dee it was for the Southern chicken sandwich. The carton literature,
obviously courtesy of a flunked-out English major, was, though bad,
somewhat better than the food.

  O white meat chicken breast, so juicy and perfectly
  seasoned. To smother you under layers of condiments
  would only hide your natural beauty.

  You're about to enjoy a juicy, flavorful chicken
  eating experience.

The crisp crust was a little peppery, a little bitter, a bit too
salty; the chicken, however, was both tenderized and stringy, and I
can't figure that out. At least it had some texture, as opposed to
the spongy chopped and reformed things that one used to get at the
fast food joints. A few pickle chips completed the scenario inside
a bizarre gummy insubstantial bun. It didn't make me sick. $3.14. D+.
Literature, C- for effort.

Got on my flight and snoozed as best I could. The flight attendant
kept bashing the ice (apparently it had been loaded wet and had
refrozen), and my seatmate kept elbowing me as he turned the pages
on his real estate cram course book. Toward the end of the flight
I gave up, and the guy engaged me in a fairly interesting conversation.
during which it came out that he and I had some experiences and
interests in common; either that or he's an amazing con man.

US2144 LGA BOS 2100 2213 319 2A

Turns out, too, that he was taking the same connecting flight, so
I offered to guest him into the club, where he was peeved to note
that booze costs a fiver at least. He was suitably incensed at the
cheapness of United Airlines until I pointed out to him that we were
in the US Airways club. Etiquette dictates that the guest buy the
booze, but this guy was apparently not into etiquette, and I ponied
up for my own Sam. Interesting conversationalist, though, so, what
the heck, it doesn't cost me anything to upgrade a companion, space
available, I got him into F on the connection, where he proceeded
to get polluted (first on Glenlivet - he was peeved that there
wasn't any Chivas, but didn't know what Glenlivet is, and then
he nosed it and tasted it - he took it with soda - and pronounced
it to probably be a 6-year-old, whereas if he'd just looked at
the little bottle it would have told him it was a 12; then he
switched to Tanqueray on the rocks; this all says something not
too complimentary about him) and then tell me bits of his life
story that, though amusing, and, as I said, resonated with mine,
didn't quite add up, either that or he doesn't hold his liquor as
well as a seemingly worldly guy in his 30s should be expected to.

Things about him that he said.

- he'd done work at NCI; yet he didn't know one of the drugs (a
famous one) that my father had worked on and thought it was an
antibiotic;
- he'd gone to Harvard; later he clarified this by saying he'd
been a lab rat and implied that he'd done graduate work there;
- he'd worked in psychiatry; but he couldn't follow some relatively
elementary mental health concepts;
- he plays bass in a rock band; showed off a giant foot-tall tattoo
of a bass clef on his shoulder - it must have been highly amusing
to see this pinstriped guy stripping down to show off his tattoo in
the first-class cabin
- he has an ex-wife and a young son (3 I think), but there was this
mistress thing, and he's in love with her, but she's a drunk so
they broke up some months ago.

I don't know how to characterize this all - a male bond, a con,
or what, or I'm might just be overpsychologizing. There are other
things that I won't go into that make me think more "con" than
anything else, but what I have to get conned out of I don't know.

Did he actually sort of do most of these things (I have a similar
amazing curriculum vitae, and people might be disinclined to believe
what I've done, seen, experienced, even though I don't exaggerate
(but do see things through beer goggles at times))? Is he completely
full of it, sort of like the guy that impersonated an airline pilot
and didn't get caught for years, and did his story simply resonate
with mine in a random way? Or had he done some homework and was
targeting me (why?)? He didn't get enough info out of me for an
identity theft, and offered as much as he asked for (though, of
course, it might be fake).

It is the tattoo that makes me less leery of returning his phone call
(for some reason I gave him my number). A crazy con man I can take,
if he's a decent musician. He promised to invite me to one of his
concerts. That would be fun, if I can keep my ears from bleeding.

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