What a nightmare.
Traveling from Phuket Thailand, via Bangkok and Japan, to Los Angeles. But, with lots of phone calls and emails to friends in China, I had it all arranged. Shi Xing Wei was going to arrive at LAX at 1100 AM, just minutes before I was scheduled to arrive from Japan.
I didn't think it would be a problem for him to wait a few minutes in the terminal. It would only be a few minutes.
But, I had backup mechanisms in place. He had phone numbers of other friends in LA who could go and pick him up, if for some reason, I got delayed in Japan. I had a flight scheduled for us, on that Friday, for LAX to Las Vegas, for 1:30 PM, a flight that, if all went well at customs, that we would make. Being a Friday, it was the last flight that was available for that day. Everybody in California wants to go to Vegas on Friday afternoon. I had the flight booked two weeks in advance, from Thailand, so that we could both get home on the same day.
Lots of planning. Lots of correspondence. All thought out well in advance.
I never, ever took into account the presence of an 80 year old woman at the Information counter.
I arrived on time. And quite to my surprise, I didn't oversleep during my ten hour layover in Japan. And also quite to my surprise, the five customs agents who took interest in my passport and computer profile, for some strange reason, decided not to search me for hours and hours. I was out in the terminal early. At 1100 AM. I figured I beat Xingwei out of customs.
On the board, was a flight, CE 983, from Beijing, due to arrive at 1120. Knowing that Xingwei was on China Air 983 from Beijing, due to arrive at the same time, I figured that was his. But, the CE moniker kind of disturbed me. China Air is known as CA, not CE. But, with my memory, and the fact that I had traveled for over thirty hours at this point, I decided to put my trust in someone more intelligent about these things than I. And, someone more awake.
I went to the Information Counter in Tom Bradley International terminal.
She was barely alive. I was actually amazed that this woman was able to stand. In fact, during my medical school training, I dissected healthier looking humans than her. So, putting the whole "gentleman" bullshit aside, i decided to talk to the older man who was sitting next to her. He must not have been more than 85 years old. He was in fairly good shape though.
"Can you tell me when CA 983 arrives?"
"Huh?"
"China Air 983. Do you know when it arrives?"
"You have to speak up sonny."
Sonny. Can't remember the last time someone called me sonny.
"You better ask her. She knows these things...."
She, to my surprise, was still breathing. So, I decided to ask her.
"Can you tell me when China Air 983 arrives?"
She knew exactly what I was talking about. And, she could hear. And she was sharp. I immediately got the impression, that when these two were getting it on, she was the one directing the whole thing. On top. Do me this way or I'll whoop your Depends clad but. She was the boss. No doubt. I had visions of an oxygen tank under a bed in some sleazy hourly rate hotel, with a bed that you put quarters into. I wondered if they shared the same oxygen mask.
"Yes, let's see, CE 983 is late, it will be in at 12:30"
Authoritative old woman. Reminded me of the ninety year old female ex-concentration camp guard that threw us out of King Ludwig's castle in Bavaria many years ago. Now, THAT was a good time.
Late. I started to wonder if we were going to make that 1:30 flight to Vegas. I just wasn't sure if there was another flight leaving that day that we could get on. But this CE versus CA nonsense was bothering me. So, I asked her about it.
"Well, my friend is on CA 983, not CE 983. They're different airlines, I think."
I had thought so, but, I've learned not to trust my memory anymore. Besides, I was so exhausted from muscle relaxants, sleeping pills, and lack of sleep over the previous two days, that if Charles Manson was standing behind the Information desk in a bikini, I would have believed him too.
"CE, CA, they're all Chinese airlines. They're all the same." She gave me this look like I was an absolute complete ****ing idiot. A look something like, "Well, if you had ever gone to China, you would know that they're the same airline..." How could I not know that.
So, off I went to wait for Xingwei's plane. I had an hour. That's when I had this epiphany, that I coud save time if I walked to the domestic terminal, and check my luggage in. This way, when Xingwei arrived, we could run with his baggage to the domestic terminal, and try to make that 1:30 flight. Which, is what I did. I tried to check Xingwei in also, but, the ticket agent refused to do so for me. Something about "lacking a body..." Damn, I was tired.
Back to the international terminal to wait. And wait. And wait. And be watched. And watched. And watched.
Being big and bald is one thing in today's world of increased security. Being big and bald and semi-drugged is another. I had two airport police hanging out behind me for about an hour. It was almost 2 PM at this point. I had waited for two and a half hours. Xingwei's plane, CE 983, had arrived, but no Xingwei came out of customs. In fact, just to make sure that they didn't impound everyone from CE 983, I went up to two young Chinese women, whom I thought had come off of CE 983. I asked them if they had been on CE 983 from Beijing, to which, they didn't respond. In fact, they kind of looked at me funny, with one of those "who the **** wants to know" looks. Asian women become so Americanized, oh so very fast. It then occured to me that asking them if they had seen a young Chinese man on the plane would not exactly be an act of demonstrative brilliance. I decided to wish them well, play the part of the fool, and work on the cops. It was time to chill out the two airport cops, by going up and talking to them. They had been watching me for too long. And my episode with the two Chinese girls had not really gone over well.
I played dumb and stupid, which, considering my state of mind at that time, was not too hard. Just a simple question. How long does it take for a Chinese non-immigrant to clear customs? By this time, I had visions of Xingwei in some US Customs cubicle with handcuffs on. Waiting for a plane back to China.
"Oh, sometimes it takes hours. And hours. You never know when they'll release people..."
It was after 2 PM. And I couldn't imagine another couple of hours waiting for Xingwei to come out. So I returned to the Information desk. She was still alive. In fact, I even mentioned it to her. "Wow. You're still here."
She looked at me funny.
I decided that the better part of valor was to ask the other guy that was there. I was not too happy with the CE and CA argument, being the same airline. But, the terminal I was in, was the only international terminal I could remember at the time. I asked the guy if he knew anything about CA 983. He was a different guy than the previous one. He could hear. And, apparently, he didn't take any shit from the domineering Nazi Helga type that he was working with.
"Yes, CA 983 arrived at 1100. At the terminal next door."
Xingwei had been waiting at the terminal next door, the very one that I walked past to get to the domestic terminal to check in early at, since 1100. He had been wondering why I didn't come through US Customs, just as I was wondering why he hadn't.
Brilliant. But, we were lucky. Out of all the airlines and all the flights that were heading to Vegas from LAX on Friday, there were only two seats left. Two first class seats, on a 6:30 PM flight. A flight that was delayed. I bought them.
And Xingwei tolerated his first English lesson with me, with a drugged and exhausted me, in LAX domestic terminal.
"Ni hen lai ma?" ARE YOU TIRED? I made him repeat it after me.
"Bu hen lai".
"Hen hao". VERY GOOD. Damn these monks. They never get tired.
First English lesson was over. I sat in my chair in the terminal, and watched fake breasts walk by for a few hours. Two and a half months in Asia was over. God, how different life was in the US....
Traveling from Phuket Thailand, via Bangkok and Japan, to Los Angeles. But, with lots of phone calls and emails to friends in China, I had it all arranged. Shi Xing Wei was going to arrive at LAX at 1100 AM, just minutes before I was scheduled to arrive from Japan.
I didn't think it would be a problem for him to wait a few minutes in the terminal. It would only be a few minutes.
But, I had backup mechanisms in place. He had phone numbers of other friends in LA who could go and pick him up, if for some reason, I got delayed in Japan. I had a flight scheduled for us, on that Friday, for LAX to Las Vegas, for 1:30 PM, a flight that, if all went well at customs, that we would make. Being a Friday, it was the last flight that was available for that day. Everybody in California wants to go to Vegas on Friday afternoon. I had the flight booked two weeks in advance, from Thailand, so that we could both get home on the same day.
Lots of planning. Lots of correspondence. All thought out well in advance.
I never, ever took into account the presence of an 80 year old woman at the Information counter.
I arrived on time. And quite to my surprise, I didn't oversleep during my ten hour layover in Japan. And also quite to my surprise, the five customs agents who took interest in my passport and computer profile, for some strange reason, decided not to search me for hours and hours. I was out in the terminal early. At 1100 AM. I figured I beat Xingwei out of customs.
On the board, was a flight, CE 983, from Beijing, due to arrive at 1120. Knowing that Xingwei was on China Air 983 from Beijing, due to arrive at the same time, I figured that was his. But, the CE moniker kind of disturbed me. China Air is known as CA, not CE. But, with my memory, and the fact that I had traveled for over thirty hours at this point, I decided to put my trust in someone more intelligent about these things than I. And, someone more awake.
I went to the Information Counter in Tom Bradley International terminal.
She was barely alive. I was actually amazed that this woman was able to stand. In fact, during my medical school training, I dissected healthier looking humans than her. So, putting the whole "gentleman" bullshit aside, i decided to talk to the older man who was sitting next to her. He must not have been more than 85 years old. He was in fairly good shape though.
"Can you tell me when CA 983 arrives?"
"Huh?"
"China Air 983. Do you know when it arrives?"
"You have to speak up sonny."
Sonny. Can't remember the last time someone called me sonny.
"You better ask her. She knows these things...."
She, to my surprise, was still breathing. So, I decided to ask her.
"Can you tell me when China Air 983 arrives?"
She knew exactly what I was talking about. And, she could hear. And she was sharp. I immediately got the impression, that when these two were getting it on, she was the one directing the whole thing. On top. Do me this way or I'll whoop your Depends clad but. She was the boss. No doubt. I had visions of an oxygen tank under a bed in some sleazy hourly rate hotel, with a bed that you put quarters into. I wondered if they shared the same oxygen mask.
"Yes, let's see, CE 983 is late, it will be in at 12:30"
Authoritative old woman. Reminded me of the ninety year old female ex-concentration camp guard that threw us out of King Ludwig's castle in Bavaria many years ago. Now, THAT was a good time.
Late. I started to wonder if we were going to make that 1:30 flight to Vegas. I just wasn't sure if there was another flight leaving that day that we could get on. But this CE versus CA nonsense was bothering me. So, I asked her about it.
"Well, my friend is on CA 983, not CE 983. They're different airlines, I think."
I had thought so, but, I've learned not to trust my memory anymore. Besides, I was so exhausted from muscle relaxants, sleeping pills, and lack of sleep over the previous two days, that if Charles Manson was standing behind the Information desk in a bikini, I would have believed him too.
"CE, CA, they're all Chinese airlines. They're all the same." She gave me this look like I was an absolute complete ****ing idiot. A look something like, "Well, if you had ever gone to China, you would know that they're the same airline..." How could I not know that.
So, off I went to wait for Xingwei's plane. I had an hour. That's when I had this epiphany, that I coud save time if I walked to the domestic terminal, and check my luggage in. This way, when Xingwei arrived, we could run with his baggage to the domestic terminal, and try to make that 1:30 flight. Which, is what I did. I tried to check Xingwei in also, but, the ticket agent refused to do so for me. Something about "lacking a body..." Damn, I was tired.
Back to the international terminal to wait. And wait. And wait. And be watched. And watched. And watched.
Being big and bald is one thing in today's world of increased security. Being big and bald and semi-drugged is another. I had two airport police hanging out behind me for about an hour. It was almost 2 PM at this point. I had waited for two and a half hours. Xingwei's plane, CE 983, had arrived, but no Xingwei came out of customs. In fact, just to make sure that they didn't impound everyone from CE 983, I went up to two young Chinese women, whom I thought had come off of CE 983. I asked them if they had been on CE 983 from Beijing, to which, they didn't respond. In fact, they kind of looked at me funny, with one of those "who the **** wants to know" looks. Asian women become so Americanized, oh so very fast. It then occured to me that asking them if they had seen a young Chinese man on the plane would not exactly be an act of demonstrative brilliance. I decided to wish them well, play the part of the fool, and work on the cops. It was time to chill out the two airport cops, by going up and talking to them. They had been watching me for too long. And my episode with the two Chinese girls had not really gone over well.
I played dumb and stupid, which, considering my state of mind at that time, was not too hard. Just a simple question. How long does it take for a Chinese non-immigrant to clear customs? By this time, I had visions of Xingwei in some US Customs cubicle with handcuffs on. Waiting for a plane back to China.
"Oh, sometimes it takes hours. And hours. You never know when they'll release people..."
It was after 2 PM. And I couldn't imagine another couple of hours waiting for Xingwei to come out. So I returned to the Information desk. She was still alive. In fact, I even mentioned it to her. "Wow. You're still here."
She looked at me funny.
I decided that the better part of valor was to ask the other guy that was there. I was not too happy with the CE and CA argument, being the same airline. But, the terminal I was in, was the only international terminal I could remember at the time. I asked the guy if he knew anything about CA 983. He was a different guy than the previous one. He could hear. And, apparently, he didn't take any shit from the domineering Nazi Helga type that he was working with.
"Yes, CA 983 arrived at 1100. At the terminal next door."
Xingwei had been waiting at the terminal next door, the very one that I walked past to get to the domestic terminal to check in early at, since 1100. He had been wondering why I didn't come through US Customs, just as I was wondering why he hadn't.
Brilliant. But, we were lucky. Out of all the airlines and all the flights that were heading to Vegas from LAX on Friday, there were only two seats left. Two first class seats, on a 6:30 PM flight. A flight that was delayed. I bought them.
And Xingwei tolerated his first English lesson with me, with a drugged and exhausted me, in LAX domestic terminal.
"Ni hen lai ma?" ARE YOU TIRED? I made him repeat it after me.
"Bu hen lai".
"Hen hao". VERY GOOD. Damn these monks. They never get tired.
First English lesson was over. I sat in my chair in the terminal, and watched fake breasts walk by for a few hours. Two and a half months in Asia was over. God, how different life was in the US....
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