Saturday, December 26, 2009

Fire! Blood! Doha!

Greetings from Doho, Qatar.

My goal for enjoying my first 2 weeks vacation (or any holiday longer than 5 days) in a year was to basically sit around and do nothing in India. All I want for Christmas is rest. Give me sun, a book, and some prawns by the beach. I don't even need wifi. It's not too much to ask. Well things have gotten have to a swimming start

Allow me to share the adventures of geting to the airport in a chronological order and in list format (and lacking proper capitalization and/or grammar) :
  • 7:45pm: Get into cab to JFK. Christmas night in NY is lovely. The world is lovely. Everything is lovely
  • 8:00pm: Cab is on the freeway and all is merry. Hooray for no traffic.
  • 8:15pm: Cab begins to slow down.
  • 8:16pm: Cab is halted in the middle lane of the freeway. foreign cab driver guy is unsure of what to do
  • 8:17pm: The distinct smell of smoke is in the air. It is not chestnuts roasting on an open fire.
  • 8:18pm: Cars are honking at us as we stuck in the middle of the freeway.
  • 8:19pm: A Russian driver who had pulled over to the side of the freeway and is moving towards us yelling "Fire! There's a fire!"
  • 8:20pm: My cousin and I have bailed out of the cab and are in the middle of the freeway diverting traffic away from the cab. The fire had come from one of the wheels and now looked to be out. The next thing I know I'm pushing the cab next to the Russian to hopefully get it to the shoulder. It's useful, plus the cabbie not throwing the gear intro neutral didn't really help matter. Also I noticed blood all over my hands (I felt a pinch on my hand when my hand brushed over the back of the trunk while pushing) Luckily it didn't get onto my jeans or track jacket. This is key because I have to look good on the plane for "Priya" (more on that later)
  • 8:30pm: Another cabbie pulled over we get our bags out of the trunk of the first car (which we noticed had seriously jacked up and semi-melted back wheel) while the Russian dude was still running around, stuck my hand in a blob of dirty road snow to clean up the bleeding hand, washed it with some water from the cabbie along with some tissues, and away we went.
Now ordinarily having a bloody hand is deemed to be a bad thing (actually it's more like a deep cut on my finger, but saying a "bloody hand" sounds way more dramatic and it's better increasing the ratings on el bloggo) but perhaps God had a plan. You see my cousin and I didn't have seats next to each other (we had to ask someone to switch) so I wanted to keep some optionality juuusssstttt in case the person next to me was a cute ladyfriend. We shall call this hypothetical person "Priya"

So my bloody hand theory is that if "Priya" were to see my hand with bandages it would invoke some sympathy and she would instantly be smitten by me. It's a good theory. In theory at least.

The only problem is that it requires a Priya....and sadly Priya was not existent next to me. Servants. In fact there were no potential Priya's at all on the flight...or on Terminal 4 at JFK. Or anywhere. The beautiful people do not travel on Christmas night I suppose.

And with that I'm in the Doha international terminal having just played foosball. I only play foosball in Qatari (Qatari? Qaterite? Qatarian?) airports.

Okay then... I don't know what timezone I'm in but I know the next flight is 60 minutes.

Hopefully Priya will be on the next flight (to Bombay). Adieu!

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1 comment:

Alex said...

Have fun!!
We hope that you get lots of rest and a Priya but much less fire and blood.