This entry, from September 2000, captures a moment that made me question the widening gap between public behavior and private commitment. I didn’t write it to condemn strangers, but to understand my reaction to them—and to myself. Reading it now, I still wonder: when did we stop expecting more of each other? And of ourselves?
September 23, 2000. I went to the client on Thursday night, and I will never go back again. JB is simply a tyrant. He manages by intimidation and humiliation. His “fun” is not my fun, and so I will not go. I showed up at the hotel on Thursday night and the guy looked at me and said, “I’ve got some bad news for you; we don’t have a room for you.” “I don’t understand,” I said. “I thought the room was guaranteed.” “I don’t have a room.” I felt myself getting angry, but it subsided so quickly, that I knew it was just that I was tired. Like now: I feel, rested. My head is stuffed, but I feel excellent throughout – sore, with eyes I have trouble keeping open. I probably look like I have slept a long time, which I have (8 hours). I said to the night clerk, “How can this happen?” He looked at me, with stressed out eyes and said, “Everything went wrong.” Then he said he was going to send me to another hotel, wrote out directions and apologized. I quietly went back into the night without responding.
Coming back, I boarded the flight from hell. It’s ironic now that I kept pushing PD to leave on time. . . every hour or two saying, “Don’t forget we have to leave at three.” We left at 3:15 and drove quickly, boarded the flight, pulled back from the gate and the pilot said, “We are being asked to return. The flight will be delayed and hour and fifty minutes.” I got a bagel and PD got a yogurt. Then in an hour, we boarded again and were told we would be leaving soon. A stewardess collected our boarding passes and allowed us in. I was in row 28B. In front of me was a woman. In the C seat, was another woman, her friend. In A was a guy. What happened throughout the flight reminded me of why I am who I am. . . my development as an individual. The guy was married with two children; the B seat woman was married with three children. Her husband worked in construction. The C seat friend of the woman was also married. They flirted. B was everything base in a person – loud, obnoxious, restless. She couldn’t sit still. And she drank. She went to the back of the plane for awhile, and came back, very high. And they flirted. When it was unbearably hot in the plane as we sat there because they were “working on the air conditioning,” she complained. When the air came on briefly, she said, “Blow me” to the vent. He responded, “That’s my line.” They giggled. They were like high schoolers, but with a major exception: they were in their 30s. There was talk of going to a room several times. As the plane neared its destination, their heads got closer; ears were whispered into.
The entire flight from first boarding to landing took some five hours on what is normally 50 minutes. Before takeoff, the plane was unbearable; hot, stuffy, difficult to breathe. I tried sleeping, reading, relaxing. It was difficult. There were several false starts. “Arm the doors for takeoff,” was announced, and we taxied, prepared, but went to a holding place on the runway. I put on my headphones and compact disc to distance myself from the present. I was on the verge of losing it when we did, in fact, takeoff and the vents began pumping cold air so refreshing that I rejoiced like after a good meal. But what the trip did for me was confirm my difference from my fellow human beings. Am I like that guy? To a degree, because I “lust” after my wife, yes. But the difference is and always will be that I have made and keep my commitment to a single individual: my wife. What went through my mind is, “How can they act like that if they are married,” but now I realize like then: they were married only in words.
PD told me about an 18 year old Chinese guy that made a tool to punch the jet in the product that they are building over there. He just made it, without schooling, training, or anything. This individual took it upon himself to solve the problem. That’s what I am: a problem solver. The trouble is, I have been trying to figure out the moral problem in this country since I was 17 years old. I am no closer now as I was when I started. The emptiness of their conversation was like watching a bad movie and not being able to leave. Being forced to sit behind them was a surreal experience – trapped in a hot plane, watching the baseness and, frankly, boring behavior of America. I don’t know how much of this was going on throughout the plane; ironically, PD was between two women, too. But, even if it was only a small percentage, it was a clear reminder of why I have always hated people. It IS like I play roles. Who is the real Jim Nowakowski? Who cares?
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