Up, up, and back where we started
A supposedly fast thing we'll never do again. Never again.
I. When flying it's more than time zones that puts time in zones The time London to Berlin just 90 minutes! The time to the airport through security waiting for the gate waiting for the shuttle riding the shuttle walking to the gate waiting at the gate waiting to board waiting for others to board waiting to push back waiting to taxi waiting for others to taxi waiting to take off waiting for others to take off waiting to ascend waiting to move about the cabin waiting for in-flight service (what in-flight service?) waiting to descend waiting to land waiting to not crash waiting to taxi waiting for others to taxi waiting to deplane waiting for others to deplane walking to passport check waiting at passport check walking to baggage claim waiting at baggage claim - what's that? you only have a carry-on? you had to gate-check, anyway - finding your way out finding your way to somewhere. All that time is not part of time is how six hours becomes just 90 minutes. When things go well. II. When things do not go well. The time to the airport through security waiting for the gate waiting for the gate waiting for the gate waiting for the gate waiting for the shuttle riding the shuttle walking to the gate waiting at the gate waiting to board waiting for others to board waiting to push back waiting to push back waiting to push back waiting to push back waiting through the theater of safety instructions you do not need because now it's too late and BER must sleep so you must sleep here. (Sorry.) III. Cancelled is a state of being. Cancellation is an act of metaphysical violence. To be inside the cancellation as the cancellation happens is to witness a disembodiment. The plane The flight The service One moment, a trinity The next, aporia. The plane no longer a flight. The service out of service. And what of us? Atoms in this cancelled body - Are we, too, cancelled? Crossing back through a border we never left brings little clarity to this question. IV. Do not worry. You are in good hands. What crisis, austerity, and pandemic cut, AI and automation replace. You will receive emails You will receive text messages You will receive emails You will receive text messages You will be spit out into a dimmed terminal without emails without text messages. Because human needs are faster than automated systems. This is why we outsource to humans at the kiosk you would under normal circumstances barely notice - just more commodity detritus selling terminal stuff to the terminally dazed. Checked in and checked out. For a suspiciously reasonable sum that the airline will reimburse the kiosk humans send emails the kiosk humans send text messages And very soon you are in a nice car driven by a nice man named "Addison Lee." "Addison Lee" is from Kabul. He came to London 25 years ago (good timing) He loves to go back, where his mother is. Especially now that the Taliban are back. My friend, never been safer. (For his mother, too? Yes for his mother, too.) Still, Londonbestcityintheworld Here, you meet everyone. V. Everyone, from everywhere, is here - the lobby too bright and too buzzing - for no other reason than no one has anywhere to go. Like cruise passengers on a cruise ship stuck at sea barred from port. You have everything you need But nothing you want British empire's past and its service-oriented present converge on both sides of the reception desk. On the other side the person is kind - not just management-textbook kind but 3D-person kind Adds "gym access" to the keycard. Is there a pool? There was a pool Then there was a pandemic. Now there is no pool. Just as there was no flight. Check-in is quick but too late - dinner is Guinness and peanuts. Sleep comes only after the Insta DM confirms you are rebooked for late the next day is how 90 minutes becomes six hours becomes 30 hours. VI. Hotels are by definition labyrinthine. This one more than most - hallways give way to hallways with dead-end corners and carpet squares of a checkered pattern that repeats into a narrowing horizon. Every to-and-from the room a new level of Pac-Man. Last time the door was on the left surely? Thankfully, the last user update appears pre-Y2K - buttons and screens, minimal switches switch dials dial "on" makes on "off" makes off problems not devised for digital solutions to solve and dumb is smart enough. Feeding time for the listless passengers on this terrestial ship. The hostess seats you where you belong alone in the corner. Hotel breakfast is included Hotel breakfast is never what it seems Hotel breakfast is lots of food with little to eat and coffee is push-button though the room over has an espresso machine. Good taste and standards (and some chutzpah) encourage the question - as humbly as possible - if the latter is possible. The latter is possible. But why? Not rude, just curious. Then she forgets then she remembers then she calls a server who leaves direction machine but returns direction push-button and the taste confirms you pushed their buttons. VII. What's around here? Nothing. Hotel and airport, a binary star system linked only by shuttles like "Addison Lee" And you, the Maps' pale blue dot in the emptiness of ex-urb cosmos. So gym it is with the pool that now stores chairs to lift weights and wonder: Is this what securities fraud jail is like? VIII. All that time to fill and pass suddenly not enough to pack and leave - wait and hurry up to check out to shuttle back to wait more to fly on. But first hurry up and wait to access the room with a keycard that does not work - swipe and fail swipe and fail fail and swipe. Fail. Emma is at the front desk. Emma is apologetic. Emma "cuts" a new card. Swipe and fail swipe and fail fail and swipe. Fail. Emma is at the front desk. Emma is apologetic. (And perplexed.) Emma "cuts" a new card. Emma says she is sending Someone. Swipe and fail swipe and fail fail and swipe. Fail. Last time the door was on the right surely? Maybe this is not your room? Maybe this is not your floor? Maybe you're not even really here? Maybe no one is? Someone sure isn't. Leave and say so? Stay and wait? What if Someone comes while you are gone? What if Someone never comes and you never leave? A day waiting to take off, you will now be rushing to get out all because your door won't open and Someone isn't there. Emma is at the front desk. Emma is apologetic. (And perplexed.) ((And unhappy with Someone.)) Emma "cuts" a new card. Emma calls Someone "OK but next time if you are not going to go just say you are not going to go." Emma rolls her eyes. Swipe and fail swipe and fail fail and swipe. Fail. Manager-type lady appears accidentally in the same quadrant of infinite hallway. Her management-type guest greeting greeted by unexpected guest response. Manager-type lady is apologetic Manager-type lady says this will be fixed Manager-type lady swipes manager-type master keycard What awesome power manager-type lady wields to make the light go green and the door go click for any door there is. At the door, there is a knock Someone is there Someone looks confused (and under-compensated) Someone has a keycard for you Manager-type lady reappears in the same quadrant of infinite hallway with junior manager-type lady in tow Where once there was no one now there are three. Where once there were no cards now there are three. A laugh, shared and polite, helps the creep of gaslighting recede - Thank you goodbye. Goodbye stranded cruise ship. Goodbye fellow passengers. IX. Hello "Addison Lee," a different one without stories of safe Kabul but of dangerous drivers who share his office - miles of motorways that beseige Greater London. And you are back to where you never left - this time all as planned when 90 minutes is just six hours is just 90 minutes. You have missed a day and some meetings and some time you cannot get back but expenses that you will (and maybe compensation) ((just like that espresso)) For these mild inconveniences there are rules there is recourse there is care - even if feigned it is not bupkes. Bupkes is for bigger things - where there is no breakfast because there is no food because there are no rules. because there is no recourse. Only death. Quickly or slowly. Now or later. X. Oh - that again? Yes - that again. What does this have to do with that? There is no this without that. Even if that ends, we are stuck in this - the infinite hallways and dead-end corners of the vast emptiness that spreads across the empire of exception - looking for a way out of that asking ourselves: Last time, the door was straight ahead surely?