Or are you just trying to rot in ever more creative ways? They have that type of familiarity where they have been together for so long, every conversation is already an argument half-started and fully-won in each of their minds. I saw a man in the security screening line wearing multiple hats. Not figurative, I repeat, not figurative. He was wearing three bowlers stacked on top of each other. What do you take me for, a whimsy narc? Due to lack of sleep from three hour travel stints in four days, I am a level of tired where I am one of those dogs with its tongues permanently hanging out.
My face has no energy left to retain its natural shape. All my muscles are angry, especially my left hamstring which has decided to seize for the foreseeable future.
The idea of all things seems both laughable and deeply unsettling. I spot an equally glassy-eyed man hunched over his salad bowl jabbing shapes into his mouth with one hand while scrolling through his phone with the other. He feels like a vision of my past, present, and my future? Abandon all hope, et cetera. I spotted this from my plane window. The bag was just sitting there perched like it was about to do something desperate.
Is this how you troll passengers? I have never been more stressed. Subscribe to Wait, What? Share this post. Wait, What? On the Road by Not Jack Kerouac. Copy link. On the Road by Not Jack Kerouac in which i present assorted travel slurps for your digestion. Aparna Nancherla.
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