This is so shameless, writing so much about my impressions when I should be devoting time to my concerns and feelings over the job. I guess that I am so tired of living with it, day after day that it seems mundane and old. do i want to remember these worries so vividly years from now. Why bother? I will not forget the worry, it will always be with me, it will simply attach itself to some new, and perhaps less significant thing in my life.
LAX was dazzling and busy compared to the laid back glitz of Las Vegas. The lights here are brighter, the hum of humanity louder and more pressed. I felt as if I needed to jog just to keep up with the casual pace of the residents.
Egor drug me along to the shuttle area. He had already incorporated the new pace into his system. I felt confused and disoriented as we boarded a shuttle for the car rental place. Our driver was an immense light skinned African American woman with brittle blond hair crimped tightly around her scalp. Her gravely voice boomed cheerfully though the speakers. Smiling brightly, she saluted other drivers and staff as she tore through the airport at top speed. I could hear our luggage shifting nervously in the bins beside us. I am amazed by how skillfully she maneuvers the minibus. As we get off, she is sweet and patient with us tourists, although she seems about as tired and dazed as we are. Her name is Phyllis and she won’t take a tip.
It’s after 10 pm when we hit the rental counter. The sleepy rental agent is very patient with us and draws a map to our hotel. I wonder how often he must give this speech and how he manages to still be so gracious. At the hotel I have my first experience with valet parking and in my confusion manage to walk into Egor twice.
Our room is very pleasant and I unpack in a frenzy, mostly looking for my brush and face wash. It takes ten minutes to coax the snarls out of my hair. I collapse at 11:30.