Caught My Attention

I recall reading about someone who said he was late all the time and couldn’t help it.  Another person, perhaps the therapist, asked:  “Do you arrive on time for plane flights?”  “Yes. I do.”  Replied the tardy man.  “Well then you can help being late.  You just don’t concern yourself about the people you are making wait more than your own needs.”  A deeper order then of lateness management must be plumbed if in fact you do miss planes.  I fly so many of them the odds for missing one go up, I suppose.  It usually only happens to me once every year or so.  I had it happen two weeks ago and then, again, today. 

One trip influences the next.  Last week I made my way out to security early and was forced to corral into a thirty-minute queue.  I returned to the idea with every bend of the cattle procession, that, I could be sitting in a cafe back near check in.  In China the way the queue system works, is such that if you arrive at security when your boarding has already been called you can get in a special expedited line.  This time, I enjoyed my time in a cafe, writing and . . . then talking, on the phone.

I was a few minutes beyond boarding call, when I headed down the escalator.  It was then that I noticed I had brought my luggage with me.  A bag one could easily bring on board that I usually check, but hadn’t.  I showed the guy my ticket and mentioned that my plane was boarding and was shown to a smallish line of four people.  I made it through and then, was stopped as they found my toilet bag, a container of Kiehl’s Silk Groom.  This stuff is precious.  It’s the best thing for guy hair and its now, only available when I go back home.  It ain’t cheap and I usually make two tubes of it last a while.  They pulled my tube out and said it couldn’t go any further.  I pursued through the predictable process of pleading, joking, and asking I could just squirt a bunch of it out to pass regulation.  Nope.  I could squeeze some into another, smaller vile and take that.  OK.  I had such  vile and proceeded to try this.  They then offered me a chance to sign a form and claim it later.  Fair enough.  I’ll be back tomorrow.  Why not?  I accompanied a pleasant older lady over to another counter to do this, chatting as we went. 

We got to the ‘register your illicit goods’ counter and the lady there took one look at my ticket raised her eyebrow and said: “You don’t have time for this.”  This caught my attention.  I’m thinking I still had at least a good five minutes.  Remarkably, the older lady simple told me to shove it in my bag and go.  I did this and ran over and found the gate closed.  And, I learned there and confirmed later that doors did not close ten minutes before departure, as I’d have told you yesterday, but rather at fifteen minutes before boarding.  Oh.  I’d a made it but, it seems, the rules done changed.  If you’re going to game the system, you need to know the rules.

Landed then a few hours later than intended just as the sun set.  I proudly walked from along the moving walkways listening to Willie Colon’s remarkable “Eso Se Baila Asi”, which sounded as mighty and distinct as it once did walking along Rivington St.  And then a call came.  I was using 4G data.  The person couldn’t hear me well.  I called back with Skype.  Still couldn't hear me.  He called back with FaceTime and that didn’t work.  I was in a long cab queue and figured I’d try again.  He couldn’t hear me.  And then, it dawned on me to try him on We Chat.  Then suddenly, it worked well enough to talk.  There would appear to be a particular genius to making poor connections work behind the Chinese firewall, which Tencent have mastered and all international services are flummoxed by or made to suffer a flummoxing by.