On The Road With Jack
by Thomas William Parrott
At around 4 in the morning I gave my bag to the check out lady at the Delta airlines desk and made my way through Heathrow Airport security, where I was sure I would be stopped because of the metal thermos of insulin I was carrying. This did not happen, nobody batted an eyelid and no one asked to see any documentation of what was inside the flask. I arrived in Paris still half awake and I started to realize what Chuck Palahniuk was talking about. The perpetuating feeling of deja vu...Again here I went through airport security and nobody showed any attention to the metal flask filled with glass containers of , to them , an unknown liquid. They did take strong notice of the bottle of diet coke I had though, and that went swiftly into a bin. Uncannily, Charles De Gaulle airport looks exactly like the airport at the end of 12 Monkeys and I only wish I'd had my yellow raincoat with me to make the experience that little bit more surreal. I got to stretch my french with a waitress when ordering my breakfast just before boarding, though I did feel ten euros for a replacement diet coke and three croissants was a little steep. Caught the flight with plenty of time, and sat next to a canadian girl who was going back home to nursing school after teaching for 2 months in Romania. Taught her how to play sh*thead with cards, discussed the pros and cons of cleaning up vomit, and watched 'Coraline' among other things.Landed in Seattle Airport and slowly made my way to baggage claim, at which point the long arm of the American customs officer swooped down upon me and treated me to a full search of my bags. In a way, I was glad, the way I had gone through the other security checks had left me questioning the real security in the world airports. I had all my bags checked, and waited patiently knowing if I made any fuss I wouldn't be leaving the airport anytime soon.After getting the all clear, I jumped on the monorail to another baggage claim, (very confusing) picked up my bag again and jumped on the bus to downtown Seattle. I had arrived. The bus journey was good, sat next to a guy who was moving the last of his stuff from one side of Seattle to the other because his flat mate was so untidy and sat around all day doing nothing. It seems there are lazy bums the world over. He told me about the best things to do in the city and alerted me to the street kids, which coincidentally is the word today: Jubalows. - the street performers and kids on the streets of downtown Seattle, who usually have no shoes and like to squirt ketchup everywhere. I got off the bus at Pine market and decided to walk the rest of the way to my hotel, which is amazing, uber modern with Obey andre the giant posters tiled on the walls. My room is directly above a bar, and after sleeping most of the day I saw fit to go and have a drink there and meet some of the locals. Needless to say I spent most of the night in there. It's now 6 am and the morning light has just peeked up over the harbor bay, think I'm gonna grab the camera and make the most of my day.