tortuga.1

to a friend whom i never stop annoying

"Does anyone understand what the f$#k she is saying???" an elder man with a british accent tells his wife whose pale-white face immediately begins to light up bright red as she excuses her husbands` language to the other potential passengers seated in the lounge.
He grabs her wrist rather violently and tells her to quote-unquote: shut the fuck up.
The annoying, female, high-pitched voice, comes on the speakers again, blaring through the whole airport something about Tokyo, Japan. I cannot take it anymore so I stop typing the email and plug my ears with the index fingers... which is when I realise that I can actually understand what she is saying like this.
"We are in need of passengers to fill flight 411 to Tokyo, Japan. Reduced fare."
I think of my girlfriend whom I love but with whom this whole long-distance buzinass just isn`t working as I thought... I think of my job which leaves me plenty of time to swim and go to the gym and go climbing but which I got into because it was what another friend was doing and, now that I feel I better understand myself, just isn`t appealing to me anymore.

Pause. Save As: "Tortuga.1". Done.

I stand up and, swiveling on my left foot, propel my right heel onto the britsh mans` face.
Blood pours down to the floor in a vertical torrent reminiscent of a good monty python scene as he picks himself (and a beer bottle) up, and prepares to discuss the meaning of life with me.

Pause. Restore: "Tortuga.1". Done.

I stand up and make my way to the ticket counter where I inform the gorgeous asian lady that I want to go to Tokyo, Japan. I have money in my back account that will allow me to live well for at least a month during which I can find some odd job until something more permanent comes along. I will see Japan, will eat sushi and drink sake, will meet a thousand new people in the space of a few days, will see the zen gardens, and my perspective of the world will never be the same.

Pause. Restore: "Tortuga.1". Done.

I silently pray for the wellbeing of the english lady who has to endure the abusive husband.
I silently wonder if Tokyo exists in real life and what it would be like to know that culture.
I start up my ipod, another coldplay track comes on (which makes me feel good about myself), as I head over to the gate where "we are now boarding passengers seated in rows..."