San Francisco ’02
Chapter 1
Some time before touchdown the drugs loosened their hold. I remember turning to my Scottish and unnervingly unpredictable attorney and saying, “I feel awfully light headed I think you should drive.”
I got up and walked down the aisle as it lurched sickeningly away from me. These intercontinental flights are brutal things and not easily understood. I stumbled and kicked my way through the loose limbs to get to the toilets at the back of the cabin. Christ, I’m glad we sat near the back, the chances of us going down are so high that any factor, like being at the back of the plane, are going to weigh heavily in our favour. I looked back across the seething rows of seats at my attorney. She was quiet now. She had been mumbling to herself earlier and raving about the French and worm farms. Incoherent babbling and screeching like a tape machine played backwards. Strange words I don’t even pretend to understand.
I made it to the end of the very back of the plane, legs rubbery, walking bow legged, staring straight ahead, fixed on my destination. Suddenly these harpies leapt out of the galley. Crazed leery creatures, drunk on cheap booze and stinking of it. They pounced, sensing an easy victory, cornering me and trying to chat me up. They were from San Jose and on the prowl. I smiled and nodded and tried to stay upright. It’s never good to show fear in these situations. Any slip and I could be torn to pieces. I know this from experience; I once saw a man ripped to shreds by women just like this, a huge pack of blond, bubble-gum jeaned freaks. There may have only been two of them now, but I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life in a wheel chair.
Later in my seat I had in my hands phone numbers and email addresses I never intended on using. We were mere minutes away from San Francisco. I turned to my attorney and said.
“This is web country, we have to be very careful. Very careful. There used to be plenty of internet to go around but it’s all dried up, the rivers dry. There will be all sorts of hungry beasts there ready to suck our lifeblood. Try and latch on to us. They wont kill you mind you, they’ll attach themselves and inject some kind of horrible OEM based anticoagulant, anaesthetic, psychotic drug. You won’t notice any of them until you’ve collected 2 or 3 and then it’ll be too late. We’ll have to burn them off and you’ll probably loose all higher brain function at the same time.”
She jumped up and clapped her hands over my mouth. “Shut up! Shut up!” She looked around suspiciously and stared viciously at the little Indian lady beside us. “There might be some of them on the plane here and if they hear you this gig will be up. We’ll be screwed, they’ll strip us in customs, hose us down and throw us out on the streets naked and penniless. You don’t know these people like I do, you’ve never been here before. What you’ve read in books I’ve experienced.” She sat back down and looked nervously around, her gaze finally resting back on the small Indian lady. My attorney smiled at her, a huge hyper real ear to ear grin.
“It’s OK.” I leaned across and said to the small Indian cowering by my attorney. “She’s just admiring the shape of your skull.”
