I’m sitting just outside the International Arrivals terminal at LAX, and I’ve started typing because at this moment I have literally nothing else to do for seven and a half hours. It’s currently eight thirty AM and, due to all kinds of fuckery with delayed flights and customs being a massive pain in the arse, I don’t leave here until four.
At first I figured I’d find a bar or something, or at least a café, but so far there doesn’t seem to be any hint of the kind of big shopping/food areas you’d expect of airports. Especially American airports. It’s possible that I’m looking in the wrong place, but this terminal seems dauntingly big and I don’t want to risk getting lost. Likewise I don’t want to risk getting a cab/bus elsewhere in case I can’t get back in time. So for now, here I am.
So far, my big whirlwind trip has been a lovely mix of frenetic and frustrating, the two merging to create the kind of stress you don’t want when you’re doing exactly what I’m doing. I won’t arrive at JFK until past 1am, I somehow have to get to my hotel from there, and then my first meeting is tomorrow morning. So that’s bound to be a lovely time. That said, I can’t help but still be pretty excited catching glimpses of the LA skyline past the appropriately metaphorical towering grim fences of this airport. The thrill of coming to America for the first time is being drip fed to me, but it’s still a bloody thrill and honestly, I feel like my seven and a half hours of time killing at a surprisingly boring airport is gonna make a crucial part of this story. So for now, here I am. Feel free to Facebook me and keep me entertained over the next seeming eternity.
Oh and for the record, I’m going to try and keep this blog a little more updated while I’m away, just because this feels like the kind of trip I want to document and this seems as good a way as any to do it.
Now, to try and make the remainder of my book last for the rest of the day…
Writing words about writing words.