flight magic

laguardia airport, at 4:50 in the effing morning. being a) paranoid and b) a novice traveler, i left brooklyn at the ungodly hour of 4am for my 7:15am flight. some sleep was to be had after finagling a twisted-yet-comfortable position on the hard seats for a bit.

traveling to a singular destination with most of the music world makes for an interesting trip. there were enough hipsters at the gate to make me feel like i was on the l-train. (i.e. tall skinny guy in straw hat and blue tight blazer, tall skinny girl in ripped black jeans and three inch heels, flashdance like sweatshirt off her shoulder, both carrying instruments).

my original cheap-ticket was supposed to take me to houston (note: i keep embarassing myself by pronouncing it house-ton here. never will i scoff at a mispronouncing tourist in new york again), with a connection to san antonio, where i would meet my craigslist rideshare for a ride into austin (for $40). but, flight magic was on my side: because of fog over houston, we couldn’t land, and because our plane was short on fuel (i gripped my nails into the armrest and imagined us crashing into flames), we would be landing in austin to refuel. sxsw-ers on the plane erupted into joy. icing on the cake: they pulled our luggage so we wouldn’t be in limbo waiting for it. suddenly, it’s 11:30 texas time, and i’m standing in sunny austin (83 degrees!), waiting for my friend to come pick me up.


Published by universalchampion

writer/teacher/lover of milkshakes. queer social countess. rock camp for girls enthusiast. brooklynite + bicyclist.

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