A Sip From a Big Fresh Cup

So, I decided to emigrate to the U.S.A. With my last money and my green card, I took a big old plane to the States. Destination – The Big Apple. I wasn’t like excited or sad. I was a bit scared. Living in a freakin shithole like the country I was about to leave, made me a bit shy about big countries, big cities, big people and big women with big breasts. And big planes. Only that this biggie was shaking like a lil’ ol’ puppy in the rain. Never mind. Maybe I’ll die in the ocean. Never saw the ocean. I was a bum, and with all the money I got, my last money, I thought “Hell, if I’m going to be a bum, at least be a bum who lives in style, if only, for one day, one flight. So I went Business Class. Fine people, fine chairs, fine suitcases, fine flight attendants and fine food and drink. Too bad I couldn’t choose my flight mates. At least some of them. On the seat near me, a big Wall Street hot shot was standing. He looked at me once. I ignored. He stared. He probably wanted some conversation.
‘So, are you an American?’
‘No.’
‘Oh. So you are a business man flying to the States.’
I really thought about the answer, thoroughly, until I irritated him.
‘So…’
‘No, no businessman, either.’
‘Well, why are you flying to the U.S.A…. a student then?’
‘No sir, no student. I am just emigrating.’
‘Ha, ha! An immigrant at Business class! You must be one wealthy immigrant. Flyin’ first class…’
I frowned and put all my face muscles to work. I tried to give him the black look. It wasn’t quite a bad look. It was like I was on crack or something. But magically and miraculously it worked.
‘I’m sorry sir, won’t ask you any more questions.’
‘Hey, it’s okay’, I said. ‘I just wanted to relax at business class, be like one of you, hot shot businessman. The American Dream.’
‘The American Dream. American Horseshit. American nightmare. Why do you wanna immigrate to the U.S.? Is it a dream?’
‘No sir, no dream. I heard too much of it, too many movies. It’s like these good, fine beautiful women you see in magazines. How do they look without the lights, without the studio, without the make up, without the face lifting?’
‘Hell, I can tell you how U.S. looks. It looks like a really, really old hooker in a really, really cheap bar. That’s America. Crime, injustice, misery, some being very rich and some very poor, immigrants from Mexico, racism. It’s a melting pot okay...a melting pot of crap.’
The guy next to him, he seemed like one of those intellectuals, maybe a writer… glasses, a stubble…while typing something, he looked at the man sitting next to me.
‘If you hate it so much… why don’t you leave it?’
‘Maybe I will. Some day. I’m just really tired about this government of ours. The way they always interfere with other countries, on other continents. We should mind our business.’
‘We do mind our business. Other people don’t’, the intellectual replied.
‘Yeah right, that’s why we wake up with airplanes stuck in our skyscrapers. That’s why we have terrorism.’
‘What? Terrorism, it’s not our fault’, the man yelled.
But suddenly his voice dimmed; I put on my mp3 player with headphones and listened to some good, relaxing Miles Davis. From time to time, I looked at them quarreling. And I smiled. One of them opened a book and showed some graphs .They were probably talking about the stock market and quotes. Things that couldn’t quite get me in hook. I looked out on the little window. I could see the overcast sky from above the fluffy blanket of clouds. Too bad, I couldn’t see the ocean. I was a bit scared. Mostly because of that obnoxious guy’s comments. I was a bit frightened. But not in that way. In the way that I was going to meet the unknown. Terrorism, crimes, injustice, racism, these things were not the cause of my fears. Big skyscrapers were. Hot shot men in expensive suits. Big museums. Big Starbucks cafés of which I had heard. I was shy, I was a bit afraid and I was eager. A mix of emotions that would taste like pepper and lemon on a chocolate cake.
A flight attendant came and she served some good cuisine, which I cannot name because I do not have the slightest idea of what it was. The wine was really good too. I got really relaxed. When I took of the headphones, my flight buddies were still arguing. I put them back on my ears again and watched a good old movie. I think it was some Hitchcock. My favourite. No matter what, this trip was really worth it.
I slept a little. The guy near me woke me up.
‘Come on, sir, fasten your seatbelt. We’re landing.’
‘Already?’
I put my seatbelt and held on tight. A smooth landing that made me feel even better and safe at last. When I arrived at the airport I felt the need to drink and eat something. The hotshot obnoxious guy was still with me.
‘So, wanna have a drink or two?’
I slowly turned this guy’s voice out like you turn down the volume of a radio and went to the nearest café. I took a deep breath and smelled the morning fragrance. It had the scent of fresh coffee. It had the scent of America. And I took a sip.