For someone who loves to travel, I don’t really love to travel if you know what I mean. Don’t get me wrong, I love being strip searched at the airport as much as the next person, but if an instant transporter were invented I’d be the first in line. Just think…no more security lines, no more public transportation, no more nights in noisy hotels.
Of course, I’d miss out on some unexpected special moments if I could just pop in anywhere anytime I wanted. For example, I wouldn’t have been awakened at 6:00 a.m. by a loud rapping on my hotel door and a deep voice shouting “Engineer!”, which is what happened yesterday. (I had no idea engineers were on the room service menu, and I certainly hadn’t ordered one for that hour.) Startled and groggy, I staggered over to the peephole and saw…nothing. Now, did I think that this evil engineer of darkness had, upon hearing my startled whimper of protest, cleverly realized he got the wrong room and scampered off before I could catch him? No, I immediately thought he must be the ghost of said engineer, doomed to wander the hotel halls after being strangled by the last guest he’d woken from a sound slumber. He was very likely embittered that the jury refused to convict said guest and decided to take out his revenge for all eternity.
I also wouldn’t have been riding the bus from Grand Central station to La Guardia when it pulled beside a very large moving van. The moving van’s side door was open, and because the street was narrow and both vehicles very large, the gap between was less than eighteen inches. One of the young movers inside the van looked out, then leaned across, stuck his face into the small open sliding window directly across from me and shouted, “Good morning, New York!” I was delighted. However the true New Yorker next to me barely skipped a beat and just continued his story about training dogs for the military and how the AKC had absolutely ruined working dogs in this country by breeding for looks instead of stamina and intelligence. Considering that the combined brains of my three dogs would fit comfortably into a walnut shell with room to spare, I thought he might have a point.
Which is more than I have. Although if I have to make one up, I’d just have to say that travel brings with it a million stories that even the most creative author could never make up. And I will continue to travel until I can no longer lift my overstuffed carry-on into the overhead bin by myself. Just put my name on the waiting list for that first i-Transporter.