Monday, October 22, 2007

A Doxycyline-induced conversation about America

Freshly back from Africa, and still dosed up on Doxycyline (an anti-malaria medicine), my dreams have been especially vivid, and often nightmarish. An example of a nocturnal reverie between myself and some of that 29% of the American public that still approves of Junior Bush's job performance:

I'm seated on a jet liner, coach class, of course, in the middle seat. The man in the seat to my left, is a hulking mass of humanity. His hair is cropped close and he's dressed in blue jeans and a loose fitting tee shirt. His baseball cap sports an image of Old Glory with the words "Try burning this one" stitched underneath. The man to my right has a lap-top computer on top of the table tray at his seat. His business-casual clothing, pommaded hair, and the expensive watch on his wrist, would seem to indicate that he is a business executive. When I steal a quick glance at his laptop, he shoots me an irritated look, and shifts the computer to hide the screen from my eyes.

[Serious Businessman] That's the problem with flying coach. No privacy.

[Dade] Sorry, man. Not a lot of room here.

[Hulking Patriot] Plenty of room. We've got it great.

[SB] I'm trying to work here. Do you mind?

[Dade] You were playing Tetris...

[SB] God! How did I get stuck flying coach? I deserve first class as much as those assholes in marketing!

[Pilot's voice, over the intercom] Ladies and gentlemen, due to increased security measures, we ask that you refrain from gathering at the front of the aircraft. We also ask that you remain in your seat as much as possible, with your seatbelt fastened and visible.

[HP] All because of the terrorists.

[Dade] Terrorists?

[HP] Don't you watch Fox News? The Iranians! It's because of them that we have to live like this. I'm just glad that President Bush has the guts to stand up to them.

[Dade] Bush? He's not...

[SB (frantically pushing the service button)] Ma'am? Ma'am? Can I get my seat changed?

[HP] You watch. Bush is gonna bomb Iran. Just ask Saddam Hussein what happens when you threaten us.

[Dade] But Hussein didn't threaten us...

[HP] Pfft! Whatever! You ever heard of a little thing called 911?

[Dade] Huh?

[SB (to himself)] Whoever booked me in coach is going to get an earful when I get back.

[HP] The terrorists hate us for our freedom.

[Dade] But that doesn't make any sen...

[HP] Why do you hate America?

[Dade] But, I...

The plane begins to bounce violently.

[Pilot's voice, over the intercom] Ladies and gentlemen, we are experiencing severe turbulence. We ask that you remain in your seats with your seatbelts secured for the remainder of our flight.

[SB] Unbelievable! I shouldn't have to put up with this. I'm not like these people.

[Dade] Uh, I think I smell smoke...

[HP] If people like you had stood behind Bush, we wouldn't be in this mess right now.

[Dade] Hail Mary, full of grace; the Lord is with thee...

It is at this point that I start awake, sweating and panicked. But it's only a dream...only a dream.

No comments: