Mission

“These are the voyages of the traveler Steven. Its five-year mission: to explore the strange world, to seek out life and civilizations, to boldly go where few men have gone before.”

When I set out to see the world, my goal was to check off a bunch of boxes. I set some goals, got a full-time job, added some more goals, learned that taking 50 vacation days a year was not considered acceptable, figured out how to incorporate all of the goals I set, and had at it. My goal was never to explore new cultures, yet that is what these voyages have become. I have started to understand foreign cultures, but I have learned one fundamental truth. Human beings are, for the most part, the same.

Monday, March 9, 2015

Winging It - Day 3 - The Return Journey

3/9/15
New York, New York


This usually where I write about how unadventurous The Return Journey was quickly close out my trip in a perfunctory manner.  That was not the case today.  I had two hours to kill once I closed outside the airport.  It was no effort at all to get my boarding pass and clear security, so I headed to the Duty-Free shop in search of a box of cigars and Matt’s bottle of tequila.  There was an extensive selection of tequila, but they did not sell cigars.  That was weird.  They sold cigars on arrival, and the shop there was smaller, so how could they not sell cigars on departure?!?  They didn’t.

I was starving, so I needed to get something to eat, along with another Coca-Cola Light.  I thought I might have still had some cookies left in my bag of snacks.  I got the soda and went to sit down by my gate.  My flight would not be boarding for another hour, so I had plenty of time to kill.  That was when everything started to go wrong.  For starters, the outlets at the gate did not work, and my laptop was almost dead.  I tried all the outlets in the area, but none of them worked.  Fine.  I didn’t really need it for anything.

Okay, time for my cookies.  Wait.  Where was my food bag?  No, no, no, all the exotic snacks I had picked up, they weren’t there.  What did I do with them?  The cost was nominal, hardly even worth recording, but I had been looking forward to savoring them over the course of the week.  I hadn’t eaten any of them other than a few of the cookies.  What a waste.  Well, I was starving, and there was a slight chance I had left them at security.  I told them what happened.  I even explained in flawless Spanish.  There was obviously no bag of food there, but they wanted to make a federal case out of it.  They wanted me to file a report.  I kept explaining that it was also possible that I left it in the taxi, that it was not a big deal, just a few snacks.  “Si no tiene, no es importa.”  I felt trapped.  Eventually, they shrugged, and I walked away.

I went back to the gate and killed some time on my phone until it was time to board.  The seat next to me was empty, so I slept extremely well, waking up as we made our descent.  I think I actually fell back asleep as we were taxiing.  It was 8 AM when I got off the plane, and I went to the Global Entry Kiosk.  It had the same standard questions.  As always, I clicked “No to all.”  “Are you sure?”  I hesitated.  One of the questions was if I had handled any livestock.  Hmm, what about the horse?  Did that count?  Did I still have horse hairs on my suit?  How much of a delay would it be if I answered that I handled livestock?  I was already going to be late to work.  I clicked that I was sure.  There was no issue with Customs, and the wait for the bus was too long, so I called for a car service, cheaper than a taxi.  I was shocked how empty the airport was compared to the crowd I usually see at 6 AM.

I fell back asleep in the car, and I was at the office before 10 AM, the driver cursing out the other drivers once we reached Manhattan.  I spent most of the time at work working on a spreadsheet project, and I picked up McDonald’s for lunch, loving their new Chicken Select strips, which used to be a mainstay of my diet but had been discontinued.  I headed to the cigar store, where I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can head to class, along with formally closing this trip.  Next stop: Jackson, Mississippi so that I can say “Mississippi Complete,” along with getting the Plaque and Stamp at our country’s newest WHS, though I might go somewhere next weekend.

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