Rawdog
Jeremey was sitting in 38K on hour ten of a fourteen-hour flight to Sydney. His eUpgrade didn’t go through the one time it really mattered. Anything regional was short enough that he valued the time, using it to catch up on reading and writing. He always slept well on a trans-Atlantic or trans-continental flights. Trans-Pacific was brutal because sleep never took him the whole way. But when he woke up, he was usually too groggy and demotivated to do much. At that point, he didn’t have the attention span for a movie, much less reading or writing. Anticipating an early morning arrival was always the worst too, knowing that he needed to wait fifteen hours or so after landing to sleep once again. He needed to go to the washroom, but he was too lazy even to do that. He’d have to climb over two people to get to the washroom. He also wanted to drink some water, but that would make a washroom trip more likely in the future, so he refrained from that as well.
Jeremey looked to his right. The plane was one of those new ones without a physical shutter, and a button would dim or open the blinds. Jeremey wondered how that worked. It was dark outside anyways. In the window, Jeremey could see the reflection of his face, angles and curves catching the light of the screen embedded into the back of the seat in front of him. He always lazily put on a movie when he was on a plane, usually without headphones in. Most of the time, he didn’t watch the movie. He just put on some of his favourite ones so whoever was in charge of the buying decision would keep those in the catalogue. Whenever he did watch for a few minutes however, he found that he could always appreciate the cinematography more without the distraction of sound or plot. Right now, he had Boogie on. It was a mediocre film, but he deemed it important for the culture. Pop Smoke and Eddie Huang. Even then, he could appreciate some of the scenes more without dialogue.
Jeremey looked out the window again. He could see a green light flashing on the wing. It made him think of the green light from The Great Gatsby. Sometimes, he reached a flow state on these flights, but like runners high, it was brutal until he got there, especially in economy. After the ten-hour mark, nothing was interesting anymore. Even with the free Wi-Fi, there were only so many reels to watch. The only thing was then to sit and contemplate life. Like a Vinyasa retreat, but free and as a necessary byproduct instead of being surrounded by New Age hippies. He inhaled, not thinking about any thoughts in particular, least of all the various essays that he had going on. He would get a cat once he settled in, he decided. A cat would be nice.
Jenny had a cat and would probably be outraged that Jeremey wanted a cat now. Throughout the course of their relationship, he had only ever complained about how annoying Princess was, and that he didn’t want another one once she passed. But now, a cat was all he wanted. He had spoken to some colleagues about this at his goodbye party. They all told him to get a kitten, that it’d be fun and not as much work as people made it out to be. His mind was set on adoption. He didn’t know if he’d be in Sydney for more than three years, so a geriatric tomcat would be a perfect fit. Just two bachelors enjoying each other’s presence.
Of course, he’d have to find somewhere to live that was cat-friendly. He was okay to live a little outside of the city centre if it meant he could get a slightly bigger place. For the cat, and for people to visit. Everyone promised that they’d visit, and if they did, he wanted to be able to put them up comfortably. He told them that they’d have to wait a few months so he could settle in, and find a nice crew of people to go out with. He wasn’t worried about making friends. It was easy to meet people while going out, and he had so many friends at home, even as he had started to reach the life stage where he had fewer and fewer of them. People left Montreal, and he really only had two friends in the city that he spent time with on any sort of regular basis. Really, he spent most of his time with them and Jenny.
“China is an amazing opportunity, but it isn’t shit without you,” read the subtitles. The titular character accepted an offer to play in the Chinese Basketball Association, forgoing his NCAA eligibility. He is breaking the news to his girlfriend over Chinese food, and the shot now cuts back and forth between close-ups of their eyes. Another interesting cinematic decision. Then she starts talking about dolphins and Jeremey looks away again. After his breakup with Jenny, his friends were predictably encouraging, telling him about all the crazy Australian girls he’d meet. Jeremey wasn’t so sure if he wanted to get into another relationship. At this age, everything felt serious, and he didn’t want to go through a breakup again.
His eyes and mind started wandering again. Time will figure that one out, he thought. When he broke up with Jenny, she said that he’d probably just write an essay about their relationship and get over it. They both laughed then, not bitter, forced laughter, but a chuckle that forced its way out despite how angry the comment was. She always encouraged his writing. He thought of the recent Vanity Fair piece on McCarthy’s muse. Oh how easily men are swayed by women who compliment their writing. Yet as McCarthy believed it, so must he. There was no other option.
Jeremey took out his water bottle. That was the other thing about flying in economy, he had to bring his own water. It was impossible to stay hydrated on just the little cups that they hand out. He slowly undid his seatbelt and lifted himself up by way of his armrests until he was standing on his seat. Stepping on the armrests of his neighbours, he made it out to the aisle without disturbing them. He felt good. He felt awake. A quick trip to the loo and then maybe some writing.
