#and later on with the Caldos I love the idea of them doing it too :>

[pinkyjulien]

▶ Wilding

One of the most common "rituals" in the nomad community is called (by the anti-nomad media) "wilding". Wilding is when a group of nomads, usually all youths, venture into static society to "see what it's all about." It is a fairly new occurence in the nomad community, but has gained an increasing interest among the youth. Despite the name and media portrayal, most wildings are peaceful and boring. ━ NeoTribes, page 21

Valentin & Mitch | 670/??

[catboysimulator]

Story Four - The Matron’s Honor

Moons have gone by ever since Azhi'li has left Ul'dah; has left his old life behind. It is now the autumnal season, yet there is not much of a change in the desert, just some nippier nights... but there sure has been a change within the Sankres.

Ever since Azhi'li's arrival, the leaders as well as the elders have already been in the talks about a coming of age rite. There are children on the cusp of being ready for the rite; the Matron's Honor, and have been in preparation for it all year. The elders and handlers were prepared for the children they knew of, but certainly didn't expect one of them to be returning after twenty-four summers.

Azhi'li had no idea as to what was being spoken about amongst the three groups, until one evening when he was approached by G'sena. 

"Mijo, I know you haven't been here for very long, but... Your cousin, uncle, the elders, handlers, and I have been talking to each other about a coming of age rite ceremony for you."

Hearing his uncle, Azhi'li blinked owlishly before lifting his head from his bowl with his cheeks stuffed with caldo.

"-- hmpf?"

"You do not have to do it if you do not wish! But, we were just thinking...if you would like to do it, you have the option."

Swallowing down his caldo, he continues to stare at Sena silently before looking down at his bowl.

"... Really? Do-- y'all want me to?"

"Only if you do, mijo. We would never force you, but if you wish to do it, we would be thrilled."

Contemplating, the red Seeker rubs his thumbs along the rim of the ceramic bowl, before giving small nods and a smile, looking back up at his uncle.

"... Yeah. I think I would like to do that, tio."

With a brilliant grin, Sena would laugh and cheer happily, moving over to Azhi'li and ruffling his hair with a hug. "Andale, mijo, that's what I love to hear! We will prepare everything for you as well, then."

"When is it going t'be?"

"Within three sennights."

"O-oh. Uh. What do I have t'do?"

"You don't have to do anything until it gets closer to that time. Four days before the rite, you will be taken to the fledgelings where you will spend three days and nights in their nest, preening their feathers and familiarizing yourself with them. This will give them the chance to also learn about you. On the fourth day, you will climb your way up to Azeyma's Watch where you will meet Rahja, the matron. We will inform you on what needs to be done when that time comes, but for now, relax and wait for the day. Prepare yourself mentally, if you'd like, but I am confident you will do well, sobrino," he encourages with a smile, petting Azhi'li's head.

"And, when that time comes and all has gone well...you will come back down, and be able to fully take on your birth name-- if you wish to.  We call you that now, or at least I do, but if you are willing to take on the name, then everyone will happily call you Dhezi. It is your choice," he mentions, though his expression was almost-- pleading?

Azhi'li blinks a bit before his ears lower, giving his uncle a gentle half-smile. "I'll think ‘bout it, tio."

At that, Sena takes in a breath but continues to smile, nodding and pressing his forehead to his nephew’s. "Alright, sobrino. Whatever you decide, we will respect your decision. Now, I shall leave you to your devices, I have to leave for a few suns and visit the surrounding tribes."

"Okay, tio. I'll see you later, aye?"

"Of course."

He presses a kiss to the crown of his nephew's head before patting his shoulder, slinging a bag over his shoulder and passing through the tapestry of their home.

-------------------------

As the suns passed, Azhi'li had come to learn more and more about the Matron's Honor. It is when the matron griffin fully recognizes someone into the tribe for the rest of their life. It is usually done for children, yet also those who have later joined the tribe as refugees. Even if someone were to leave the tribe after their rite, they would still be able to call the Sankres their home and return whenever they wish. 

Yet, apparently, the matron didn't always recognize someone into the tribe. Whether it is because the person has hidden intentions, or they are simply not ready. This does not mean the end-all of everything, but that the person needs more time to figure things out for themselves, or have help from the Sankres.

This made Azhi'li quite nervous; the possibility of not being recognized. He understands that it's not a permanent thing and that he might need time, but... He also understands the history of his father. Of what his sire did and the damage he has done to the tribe, before Sena took care of him and took over leadership. 

What if his sire's reputation follows him, and the matron sees something in him that he is not aware of? To an outsider, it may seem absolutely ridiculous for a griffin to be the judge of one's worth, yet it is something that the Sankres have relied on, and they have not been led astray. Even Nhogu was not immediately acknowledged by the matron at that time, for she saw something. Yet, he was then recognized after a few more attempts.

Azhi'li knows he has no underlying motives! He never came to the tribe with any, but he's scared anyway! In hindsight, it's such a silly thing, and he knows... yet he was still filled with paranoia nonetheless.

With each passing day that came closer to the rite, his paranoia was more and more apparent. Tani saw this and huffed, yoinking her cousin by his shoulders and rattling him. "Stop it. You are psychin' yerself out fer no reason, an' I know y'know that," he states, firmly. 

"But, what if--?"

"Ah-ah-ah! Sst. Zip it. Another word outta ya 'bout this whole thing an' I'll knock ya around, got it?"

Azhi'li clamped his mouth shut at that, sighing heavily with a frown. 

Tani then squeezed his shoulders gently, affectionately; assuringly. "Primo... Do not make this situation bigger than it actually is. So what if she does not accept ya right away? You will have other chances. Plus, there is another thing y'need ta remember," they say, pressing a finger against his chest above his heart, "You are not Nhogu. You are Azhi'li Ditreinu, 'nd our G'dhezi, no matter what. Now, go on 'nd meet with th'handlers. They'll get ya all situated fer th'next three nights."

Despite Tani being brusque and a little rough around the edges, they sure do know how to help Azhi'li, and he cannot be more grateful for it. His frown would give way to a gentle smile towards the taller Seeker, nodding in response. "Alright-- Thanks, Tani."

She returns the smile, nodding and ruffling his hair. "Of course, primito. We'll see you again in a few days. Have fun!"

They shove his back, pushing him forward to send him off on his way. 

-------------------------

At the handlers, Azhi'li is then introduced to the fledgelings; Rima, Tega, and Oto. They are still young, yet are still bigger than everyone in the tribe. From what Azhi'li remembers, griffins are only native to Dravania, with some species brought over to Gyr Abania as well. To think that there are some in the Sagolii boggles his mind, especially since they are so well-trained, playing with the handlers and preening their hair affectionately.

Yet, once Azhi'li arrived, the three seemed to stop in their antics and simply stared at the Seeker. Taking a few steps towards him, they circle him while sniffing curiously, chuffing as their tails give little flicks here and there. Once they'd satiated their curiosity, they moved away from him and instead paid attention to the handlers again, while Azhi'li got himself situated on a cot near the pen, simply staring.

As the suns passed, the handlers taught Azhi'li how to preen the fledgelings, feed them, play with them, and generally get used to them. The looser the Seeker got and more relaxed, the more the three griffins did, too. Towards the end of the third night, they've gotten so comfortable with him that they curl up their massive forms near Azhi'li's legs, falling asleep before the Seeker could even slip back to his cot. It was a bit surreal, yet it filled him with a certain determination and renowned confidence. 

He went to bed feeling like he could take on the world.

At least, until he woke up. It was the fourth day, and that meant it was time to meet the Matron. Rahja.

In order to reach the Matron, the children are made to climb their way up to Azeyma's Watch on their own, without any outside assistance. One by one, they would climb the rocky mountains, and one by one they would come back down. 

Once they hear the cry of the Matron announcing her arrival, the final passage begins. The youngest child goes first, and the oldest the last. Azhi'li waited for a few hours, his heart pounding in his chest and a clammy sensation overtaking the nape of his neck. Sena, Maryn, and Tani are overlooking the process, their ceremonial feathers worn upon their heads and tagua necklaces around their necks, watching as each miqo'te makes their way up and back down, as well as taking heed of the Matron's decisions.

Soon enough, it was Azhi'li's turn. Staring up the mountain, his round ears pin back against his head. Tani whistled out for his cousin, catching the Seeker's attention as he mouths, 'Go,' offering a gentle and toothy grin.

Taking in a deep breath, the younger Seeker would nod as he began his ascent, scaling the rocks as though it were second nature. It did not take him long to reach the top, rivulets of sweat running down his forehead and chest as Azeyma beats down on his form. His breath stalls in his chest the moment he sees Rahja, her eagle eyes piercing straight into him. He feels seen; exposed, and he hasn't even approached her yet.

Gulping down the lump in his throat, he moves closer to her before doing as he was instructed to a few suns ago, raising his dirt-covered, calloused paws towards the Sun, shutting his eyes and craning his neck to bask in Her warmth. He lowers himself onto his knees afterwards, bringing himself down further into a kowtow before Rahja, pressing his forehead against the stones for a few moments before lifting himself back up to gaze at the Matron.

Rahja continues to stare down at the young Seeker before her, approaching him slowly and lowering her head down to his. Azhi'li couldn't help the vague trembling along his body, his breathing shallow and light, his eyes wide and pupils blown out into saucers. His nervousness was not any bit of a secret, and he knew it. She knew it.

And yet, it was as though a small gleam of amusement danced in her eyes. She leaned her forehead down to his, pressing them together. He took in a quick breath, before shutting his eyes and releasing a trembling sigh with a small laugh, his relief pouring out like a broken dam. He gently took Rahja's face into his paws as their foreheads nestled together, the griffin's eyes briefly shutting before she eventually pulled away and stepped back enough to flap her wings and release a bellow towards the Sun.

Azhi'li stared at her in awe, expression full of wonder and delight from her magnificence. It took a few moments, but he then realized the gravity of the situation, a heavy weight upon his shoulders and heart-- yet, not a burdened one. No, it was a comfortable weight, like a heavy blanket on a cold night. He laughs happily, cheering and hooting as he stands back up onto his paw feet, his tears warm as they streak down his cheeks while he grinned as brilliantly as Azeyma Herself.

This-- this is everything and more to him. 

Shifting over towards Azhi'li, Rahja lowers her head down to him once more before folding her legs beneath her, laying her wing down for the Seeker. He blinks and stares at her, stupefied, stammering out, "-- D--... Do ya want me t'get on?" Such a silly question, surely she wouldn't understand--,

And yet, she chuffs in response, craning her head towards her back. He still really couldn't believe it, but he carefully moved towards her, placing his soot-colored paws on her back gently, questioningly. She huffs once more, slipping her wing right under him and hoisting him right onto her back as he yelps in surprise. Once he held onto her feathers, she lifted herself off from Azeyma's Watch and flew him down below, back to his family.

Still stunned, Azhi'li blinked owlishly as he remained on her back even after she had laid on the ground, Tani cheering and calling for her cousin while reaching out for him to yoink him off Rahja's back, giving him a giant, crushing hug.

That surely did snap him out of his stupor, causing him to yelp and groan as he felt his air be squeezed out of him. "I TOLD you, primo! Don't ever doubt me again, ya hear?! If ya do, I'm kickin' yer ass inta next week!" she states, firmly. 

"Aye-aye! Okay!" he whines, yet laughs breathlessly nonetheless. Tani places him down and ruffles the younger Seeker's smaller mane, grinning toothily and placing a giant smooch to his forehead. "Eso, primo. That's what I like ta hear."

Beside Tani came Sena and Maryn, gazing towards their nephew with warm smiles, the former beaming proudly. "You never had anything to worry about, Dhezi."

With a light huff, the young Seeker's wet face softened yet remained elated, nodding in response to his uncle's words. 

-------------------------

CW: Mention of blades, bleeding, and scarification. No graphic details.

With the rite now complete, the new and official Sankres must go with the tradition of scarifying wings upon their backs.

It is quite a bit of a painful process, yet everyone in the Sankres have gone through it at one point or another. Some folks take it a bit harder than others, and must do it in increments, but Azhi'li was able to lay through it the entire time.

Carving wings into his back, they wrapped him up carefully with bandages, applying medical salve around the newly forming scars to avoid any infections. It hurt like hells, but it was done, and he couldn't be happier.

From now on, he will be known as G'dhezi.

[wheelthefridge]

in honor of last night having been my last ever shift dishwashing at the same restaurant i’ve been at for the past four years here’s an absurdly long list of random chaotic moments that literally no one asked for that i’ve been compiling since day one:

bj, with a half full gallon of orange juice: this expired two months ago. *pours down drain* that was a long time ago

sam: YOU! I HAVE A BONE TO PICK WITH YOU!! *carries on normally with no explanation* bj: smack that! that too! smack those vegetables! punch that burger in the nose! chop that bun! bob: no, flick the bun. you have to flick it. 

*bad and boujee playing* bj: walks into kitchen, singing bj: you better know when to hold em, know when to fold em, know when to walk away, know when to run bj: walks out of kitchen, still singing

me: hey can you put the wet floor sign out for me dylan: sure dylan: *slips while putting the sign out* me:

sam: get this- i haven’t smoked pot in like three days and my brain is ready to roll! yeah!

joe: ha! oldest trick in the book i just started writing 

dude @bar: ten percent of people are over 6'1" other dude: what about 6'2"  dude 1: what? no. ten percent of people are OVER 6'1" - so that includes 6'2" dude 2: idk I know a lot of tall guys. taller than me dude 1: what? i’m saying- just- ten percent of everyone in the whole world- you know how many people there are in the world? 7 billion– dude 2: i thought it was six billion  dude 1: no, 7 billion- ten percent of 7 billion—

joe, digging through the trash: i’m just gonna peruse through here,, aaaaannnd….. nope not here me: what’re u looking for Joe: …..a book

didi: is eating a pistachio  katherine: is that sour cream

sam: some dirty whorebag wants two pickles 

joe: sam she am. that’s right. dr seuss wrote a book about her 

katherine: oh my goddd this song is always on i’m so tired of it joe: is it? i don’t think i’ve heard it before carolyn: eh it’s all just one long brazilian song to me

katherine: look at my straw i put it in the pencil sharpener 

sam: i’m on crack cocaine. you heard it here

sam, aggressively putting silverware in the tray: just the way the cookie crumbles me: yeah? sam, fake crying: yes

adele: if you’re ready- sam: what if I’m not bob: too bad. she only cares if she’s ready

something: *breaks* sam: time for the mop. and by mop i mean… this thing *holds up dustpan*

mike: you should go on junior master chef…. and only make fries 

sam, quietly as she speedwalks by me: panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic

sam, beginning of the night: my goal is to make at least forty bucks tonight. hopefully sixty sam, later that night: i’ve made five dollars

sam, pouring a drink into the trash right next to the sink: you know, im not sure why i poured that in the trash. i’ve had a very off day

katherine, after accidentally spraying salsa on herself: i just sprayed salsa all over myself bj: i feel like that too sometimes. i love salsa so much

sam: can you imagine if i did like hardcore drugs how messed up i would be- i’m messed up soberly

someone: what’re you supposed to feed twenty kids  kerry: pizza bj: vodka 

sam: will you let bob know there’s gonna be seven in the snug bj: seven in the snug? that’s my band name. we’re really good

edson: *spins cover on counter and stares at it for solid thirty seconds before putting his finger down to stop it* edson: good. 

sam: what should i draw bj: you should draw casey, hanging from a cliff, with a pterodactyl flying towards them who is on fire, but, seems optimistic about it 

bj: life is too short for low fat cheese. remember that. 

sam, beginning of night, in a really good mood: guess what i’m drunk and high right now  sam, later that night: i was just pouring a beer and i dropped it. like my hand just let go of it sam, end of night: i’m never doing this again 

joe: you know who didn’t clock out yet?? i have two thumbs! joe: ……wait joe: you know who has two thumbs and hasn’t clocked out yet?? this guy!! me: there ya go buddy

bob: i’ve slept fifteen hours in the past four days me: that’s not good bob: yeah

edson: look edson: *holds out hand with top spinning in his palm* *giggles*

sam: i cannot wait for this day to be over  me: it’s barely started  sam: i took a shot before i got here. i have more in my car

bob: hi sam sam: hi bob  didi: hi sam sam: fuck off

joe: her? oh yeah her name is sarah whitaker  katherine: oh i think i know her joe: that’s funny because i just made that up. i’m willing to bet money that she’s nineteen tho me: why joe: bc i overheard her say that she’s nineteen

joe: i’m gonna send you a video but you can’t watch it now it’s needs full attention with headphones and the lights off 

bj: if you lose your hand, don’t replace it with a fork. that would be a bad choice. i know it’s probably the cheapest option, right up there with stick, but just spend the money. 

bj, on a different day: i think if you were to get your hands cut off, getting them replaced with plates would be a very bad idea. you can dig. and you can toss. but that’s about it. no playing the saxophone.  

colby: *doesn’t show up to work* bj: maybe i should leave him a message of just me crying 

katherine: i think an old man just asked me to live with him

sam: wait *pulls celery strings out of her mouth* that just came out of my throat

bob: i’m such a grump tonight. i’m in a good mood i’m just so grumpy.  bob: maybe i’m not in a good mood…

bj, after sending christa downstairs to get liquor for the bar: i put a live cobra down there too so… if she comes back with it dead in her hands…. she’s a champ. and that’s that. 

bj: i had a dog today did you have a dog? me: no bj: oh. well. 

dylan, holding phone camera at joe: hey joe can you pull ur shirt down joe, pulling the collar of his shirt halfway down his chest: yeah like this? dylan, taking picture: yeah thanks 

bj: HI-YAH carley: you’re a ninja!! bj: yes. don’t be alarmed. i only use my powers for good. 

bj, with one bottle in each hand, pouring water in the sink, mimicking cow milking motions: it’s like a cow. mooooooeeeeeeuuuuuhhhhhhgggg aaaaaauuuuuueuejhshhsii. that’s what cows sound like right?

bj: we have a dog, and we’re getting chickens. i’m not really sure why were getting chickens. do i consider myself a farmer? not really. 

bj: we should make a youtube channel of just me saying really random things to you and you not responding to me whatsoever me: mhmm

nancy: I’m sleeping

sam: *pours drink out on counter next to sink* sam: wHAT the FuCK was that!? why did i do that?? i’ve lost it! i’ve hit rock bottom!!

sam: *bends over* ughhhhhhhhhhhhh *straightens up* ok i’m fine

bj: yum! that’s how i rate the soup. two yums up!! *laughs for like a full minute*

sam: i got my motorcycle license over the weekend and now all everyone’s saying to me is “no don’t get a motorcycle they’re so dangerous” like shut the fuck up if i die i die it’s my choice 

bj: i think if i were to be turned into some kind of commercial type of food, if i got turned into a nugget, i think i’d be indignant. i’ve lived my whole life and now i’m a nugget??? “oh i was a great roasted-“ i was a nugget. i was eaten with fries out of a box with a small soda. 

bj: hello everybody. i have arrived. please remain calm.  bob: *screams*

radio: the fastest lawn mower in the world goes up to 150 miles per hour! bob: …….why??

sam: i just meowed in scotty’s face and he was completely unfazed by it. like a full on Meow. 

bob: lemme just touch these live wires with my wet hands  bj: bob has gone offline

katherine: i totally forgot to put their order in for i don’t even know how long me: ……..i’m sure it’ll be fine katherine: i mean, nothing matters, right? right. nothing matters. 

bj: hey did you guys hear that kate: yeah what was that bj: oh i was just yelling……….. about the soup kate: me: katherine: bj: i’ll try to keep it down next time

bob: you sleep a lot when you’re old. it’s just practice for death. getting ready for The Big Sleep. let’s see how do i wanna go out? on my back?? nah not for me. on my front babey! 

didi: hi sam sam: SHUT UP didi, quieter: okay…… sam: i love you  didi: no bj: so you’re a grownup now. that’s means you have to do grown up things, like, pay for dinner and stuff? me: uh huh bj: it’s all downhill from here 

bj: pon pon the van poco. right? me: mhmm bj: probably. i mean. i’m no doctor, but

random woman @ bar: we are the matrix. We. Are. The Matrix. 

bj, to the tune of frosty the snowman: clunkity clunk clunk clunkity clunk clunk look at all this stuff. clunkity clunk clunk clunkity clunk clunk making casey’s job tough! pretty good right?? i just made it up 

bj: *walks into kitchen* YES! that’s all i have to say. that’s it. BOBS killing it. DIDIS killing it. casey MURDERED it. you’re welcome. *walks out of kitchen* bj: today is the second day in a row my dog has eaten my lunch. yesterday and then today. it’s my own fault really bob: well you know what they say about men who like floppy french fries. *doesn’t elaborate*

sam: there’s a toy baby in my section. like just a toy baby taking up a seat in my section. what do i do like do i move the bitch? do i leave her there??

bob, talking to himself: if you get sick tomorrow, just remember. it’s your own fault for eating food off the floor. 

bob, to katherine: no, you don’t have to mop the carpet

bj: cheeeesy. 

laura: if i get through tonight without a heart attack it’ll be incredible. if i do have a heart attack tho just let me go

caldo: *unintelligible yelling* SELLING my BODY for SEX *more unintelligible yelling*

bob: my fathers brother sent all his kids to australia. i guess he figured at least one of them would make it

caldo: i don’t trust people who go out to eat tuna fish

bob: can you make some more guacamole soon we’re running low laura: pulls five (5) avocados from her pockets 

bob: he looks like jesus. well. he looks like what white people think jesus looked like

sam: yeah. Please. eat some more mother Fucking crackers. 

bj: i feel like i gave birth to the eggplant stacks tonight. and honestly? if my child looked like that? i’d be proud. proud to have an eggplant child

bj: alright everybody let’s get the fuf out of here!! i said fuf not f- it’s safe. f u f starts and ends with soft letters no one gets hurt. any word that starts with a soft letter and ends with a hard letter is bad news… i feel like every time i come in here i annoy you guys. casey’s one dumbass comment away from killing me. “hey so what are your thoughts on grass?” “that’s it” *mimics shooting a gun*

ilia: -and the dogs gonna get diabetes- katherine, indignantly: i cleaned it really well!

mickey: i’ll tell you one thing. crack is good. 

sam: some lady just rolled up to the bar, no bra, nipples beamin through the shirt- LETS GET IT!!!!

caldo: *speed walks into kitchen and shotguns a beer over the trash* ok i’m back. i should not have smoked this morning

dom: little kid just picked up a knife and went “oh cool i can stab someone” me, katherine, and sam in unison: good dom: yeah the dad took it away 

sam: my friend was like “why is your go to dance move just to snap” and i was like “i don’t know, i’m white” *shrugs*

bj: someone just asked me if i’m having fun. am i having fun? i don’t know if i’m having fun. there are certainly other things i’d rather be doing right now, but i don’t know if i can definitively say that i’m Not having fun. 

bj: some jobs require Only a ladle bj, thirty seconds later, after walking away and coming back: sometimes, also a funnel

bj, @ laura who’s eating cornbread: you cornbread eating chef!!!  laura: bj: laura: bj: i’m just saying facts in a weird way. you know like you’re in trouble. 

sam: *war cry* *spits out gum* *walks away*

bj: what kind of smoothie? Soup Smoothie!!

katherine: so this woman ordered some hot water so i gave it to her and her husband says you know what that’s for right and i’m like ….to drink? and he says nope! and doesn’t explain so i’m just like ………..okay! and walk away bc i don’t even want to know 

bj: there’s no shame in it! A Grown Man Can Bathe In Yogurt!!!

bj, leaning down very close to to-go box: i love you

bob: anyone want a drink? brian: whatever’s your strongest bob: milk it is

guy at bar: sUE HIM?!?!??? oh i’d sue him yeah

sam: who orders something extra cold?? like, you need to Die now thanks. 

sam: do you dare me to drink this buffalo sauce me: yes laura, walking by: snort it

sam: one more day. just one more day laura: of what sam: waking up

bob: *is trying to explain easter to jewish laura* laura: wait so he died… then he came back to life?? then he died Again??? bob: he died. then he came back just to tell people he was alive. then he said SEE YA and ascended to heaven

sam: i HATE margaritas. i don’t know why i just made myself one. 

bob: wow. i have this overpowering urge to just go home. 

bj, putting back a slotted spoon: this is a bad choice for dressing. a bad choice. 

me: *catches a plate about to fall* bj: woah! smooth moves!! spider-man? maybe. 

danny: so you know how at my other job everyone calls me daddy?

sam: *dumps out two full wine glasses* i fucked up. tell no one. 

me: remember when we used to be able to leave early? bob: no. i think we imagined it. 

danny: i didn’t realize we served DICK here -a few min later- danny: sorry i just got out of work and i’m all fired up

sam: my moms drunk and she won’t go home

bob: hey wasn’t that slang for mari- bj: cocaine. 

bj: *kicks kitchen door open* YEE-HAW!!!!

danny: sorry casey  me: what for  danny: for having to deal with me me: yeah *shrugs* danny: they should pay you more me: yeah

didi: i kill you ilia: do it now didi: no ilia: do it i wanna die

danny, about a burger: we’ve got ourselves a squirter!!

sam: is that a chicken patty  sydney: it’s my dog

sam, on my last night with her: lets get casey TRASHED tonight

sam: are you gonna go dancing in new york didi: yes laura: whore it up

[theslayover]

A typical day at MIA

After a hectic 48 hours back in Miami to visit a sick relative, I have a 6:21 p.m. flight back to San Francisco. At 4pm my mother- who is stressed from work and having her mother-in-law in the hospital for a myriad of symptoms that could only make sense in an episode of House- decides the dishes in the sink need to be cleaned. And the counter cleaned. And the magazines arranged. I help where I can but try not to push the woman, whose (and I preface this with my mom is the best mom ever) fuse is so short when she’s stressed it’s almost mythical. 

We finally leave around 4:25pm.  The normally 20 minute journey is now between 30 and 40 minutes, apparently because they’ve closed one highway, there’s going to be a basketball game, and because Miami cannot go a day without at least 57 accidents. I wouldn’t generally care but in the back of my mind I’m slightly concerned as my roll-aboard is full of precious cargo: malanga and calabaza that I need for my abuela’s famous caldo recipe and that I cannot get in San Francisco. I can’t imagine I’m violating some random agricultural rule but #Florida. 

Using a combination of Waze, Google maps, my mother’s incorrect intuition and prayers we finally make it to the airport after 5:00pm and my flight boards at 5:40pm. On top of it all, I really wanted to get a cup of coffee before the flight. This sounds like a 1st world problem, however: 

1) I had a lot of work to do and needed to make the most of the 6-hour flight. 

2) Airplane coffee tastes like a young coffee who had all his hopes and dreams in front of him until his parents died and he ended up in the foster system, bounced around house to house cared for by people who only saw him as a paycheck, and then eventually turned to a life of gang violence and drugs. 

I try not to be too stressed, reminding myself that I have both CLEAR and TSA pre-check. 

I run to the security checkpoint and wiz through with CLEAR. No problem. Then the associate informs me that pre-check is closed. It’s 5 goddam pm. The airport is mobbed, why? I’m handed a blue card that allows me to keep my shoes on through security but for the most part I’m stuck in the long, regular security line with throngs of people, all whom from their behavior I can only assume have never flown before. I feel rage surge inside me and think how Miami is a 3rd world country when it comes to logistics. But no, Lauren. You meditated today. You practice A Course in Miracles. How can you judge this way? I breathe deeply and repeat today’s mantra and tell myself it’ll be ok. 

The gentleman next to go through the metal detector steps through. BEEP BEEP BEEP goes the machine. He forgot to take off his belt. For fuck’s sake. He strips it and steps through and BEEP BEEP BEEP I hear again. His wallet. Blessed be. He steps through once more and BEEP BEEP BEEP. The security guard lets him through. Wait what. A mixture of relief and alarm rush over me at once. Please tell me what they missed wasn’t a concealed weapon in his boxers. It’s 5:20pm.

The next gentleman goes through and BEEP BEEP BEEP. My metaphysical ears bleed. 

I finally make it past all the First Time Flying Club’s members and a Portuguese family of 4 who have every iPad and child electronic imaginable, set my bags on the x-ray, tear out my laptop- one of the cons of Diet Pre-check- and I go through the metal detector. I set the fucking thing off. Thanks Cartier Love bracelet. I tell the confused TSA associate the bracelet is literally screwed onto my wrist (I feel so stupid saying this aloud...this is why women make less) and make my way to the higher security machine. I make it through without a hitch and run to the conveyor with my bags in time to see the man running the X-Ray pull my roll-aboard to the side for a bag check. Of course. It’s just before 5:30pm and I stand in silent horror as the man who is to perform bag searches decides to pick up every bin off of the conveyors before conducting the search. But I know better than to rush him, as then he’ll also decide to go back to school and get a medical degree before helping me. 

He finally decides it’s time to actually make sure my bag doesn’t have a bomb in it. I walk over to the examination area and anxiously wait as he open my suitcase. He unzips the side area inside my Away bag and he pulls out a bag of coffee. Oh. That’s what set off the alarm. Of course. But as he’s pulling it out he sees the calabaza. I explain to him in Spanish “It’s calabaza and I need it for my grandmother’s caldo recipe,” have laughing half pleaing (please God not the calabaza). He seems pretty un-phased. He goes to search the other side of my bag, saying the machine saw something else solid. “Pan?” (bread) he asks. But then he finds the malanga. “You’re taking all of Miami back with you!” he says. “It’s for my grandmother’s recipe, I can’t find this in San Francisco, Mexicans don’t really cook with malanga!” I exclaim. He places the malanga back in my suitcase, looks at me seriously and says “I bet Mexicans have never seen a malanga.” I didn’t have time to contemplate the strange cultural burn. I thanked him profusely and dashed to my next stop. 5:35pm.

I get to the Starbucks line, which is blessedly short. Three people head of my and about 5 minutes till boarding. The next person approaches the register and places an order, and the cashier gives them the total. The person looks at the cashier, seemingly surprised that they have to pay and only then starts to rifle through their bags looking for a wallet. 

It’s always been pet peeve for my father and I when a person will stand in and go through an entire line and only after ordering do they start to look for money. I can’t stand wasting people’s time and you think at an airport this would be less common but this is MIA, and it’s clearly everyone’s first time flying. 

I make it to the gate just at the start of pre-boarding (because nothing is on time in Miami), at about 5:45. I walk onto the plane panting, coffee and bags in hand. I think of all those photos of celebrities and influencers who travel through airports looking so adorable. Do they actually look like that, or do they take stock photos at various airports and just load them when they go on a trip? 

The pilot’s voice on the PA interrupts my #lifehack idea: “Ladies and gentlemen, we are already to take off here but we’ve just been alerted that someone must have removed one of the covers of the floor emergency exit signs, and the bulb has also been destroyed. We are contacting Maintenance now and will be back to you shortly with a fix update. As you know with the latest airline incidents (thank Boeing) we are all being extra cautious.”

I’m overtaken by mixture of laughter and disbelief; thoughts raced through my head: 

“Of course after all that, we ‘d be delayed anyway.”

“This has got to be the craziest reason for a delay I’ve experienced”

“I’m pretty sure if we are going down, my inability to find one of the 40 emergency exit signs will not save us.”

“This might be the first time I could understand anything the pilot said over the PA.”

Passengers start to deplane, anxious to get on a different flight in hopes of making connections or at least to yell at gate agents, who will undoubtedly out IDGAF them 10:1. 

After texting and sharing a few laughs with family and friends via text, I decide I might as well start working so I can get most of it out of the way before I get too tired. I reach for my backpack to take out my laptop- and realize I’ve left it at security. 

Being a veteran of pre-check I NEVER take my laptop out of my bag anymore. With the scare of getting my roll-aboard searched, I forgot to replace it after it came out of the X-Ray. I run to the front of the plane and tell the flight attendants I don’t want to cancel this flight but only need to grab my laptop. Thankfully since people were deplaning anyway, I was able to get off.

I raced down the terminal, the sound of my flip flops drawing stares and snickers as they watched a small woman in a maxi dress race across a terminal. Of course my gate was the farthest. I got to security gasping for air. Through my lungs loudly fighting for life, I explained to the TSA agents my plight. They had my laptop and let it go before I managed to log into it, I suppose they figured no one would purposely steal a 12 pound, soiled HP. 

I raced back down the terminal and gasping even more loudly, got back onto the plane. My seatmate saw me and gave me a silent “yay!” as I walked down the aisle. I plopped myself ever so gracelessly onto the seat, breathing (panting) a sigh of relief. The pilot’s voice comes back over the PA: “ladies and gentlemen, I really apologize but we don’t know how long it’s going to be, so we are going to go ahead and deplane.” Motherfuck.

The rest of the evening consisted of other fun things like finding out that all the other United planes at the airport were some other type of Boeing, and our plane had a slightly different size of emergency exit cover, finally bumming one off an American Airlines plane (the one good thing that airline has ever done for me), and then taking off 2 and 1/2 hours later. 

This sounds like a crazy, stressful day and it kind of was. But in situations like these I’ve found that when you find yourself stressing and adamant that something has to work a certain way, and your actions become reactive, anxious and impatient, that’s when things really go wrong. Being worked up has made me forget things (like my laptop), gotten me into fender benders, arguments and in the end, nowhere. Even in times when I’ve gotten what I wanted after seemingly swimming against the universe’s current, it’s never been as good as I thought.

When you think of it, if the plane hadn’t been delayed, I would’ve realized the laptop was missing when we are already in the air. There was no WiFi on that flight (ah United), so I would’ve been fit to be tied for SIX HOURS not being able to work on the presentation for the next day, not being able to tell anyone, wondering if it was stolen etc. My mom’s and my drive to the airport was stressful navigating and we didn’t really get to enjoy our last moments together.

So if my crazy/ funny story can help you take a step back before your brain Hulk’s out, my job here is done. And when you feel ready to see how enlightened you are, make sure you fly out of Miami.