mercredi 10 octobre 2007

Where can I get a cup of coffee?

The poster at the airport says ‘where can I get a cup of coffee?’

I’m on the two-mile hike from the check in desk to the gate, wondering why the poster doesn’t tell me where I can get coffee from, rather than ask me for directions. The advert, with its weird question, isn’t out of place here. As airports go, Brussels is about as bi-polar as they get. Someone has insisted that the two terminals will share common areas like check in and baggage claim. This is despite the fact that this clearly doesn’t work for either of them, and is inconvenient for anyone who finds themselves travelling through. As a concept, it’s not unlike Belgium itself.

Today’s meetings with the sales team have all gone well, although I could do without the constant dick-measuring contest that these things turn into. I’ve never felt the need to (metaphorically speaking) wallop mine out on the table and compare the length and girth. I’ve always felt confident that it would be the biggest in the room. The sales boys are constantly trying to out perform their colleagues, to be the one who gets the praise. At the moment they’re fighting for a promotion, so the dick measuring is getting out of hand.

As I leave the last meeting of the day, Mark phones me and asks me how I’m doing. He’s heading to Lyon next week and is wondering if I can recommend a hotel. ‘Why don’t you stay at my place’ I suggest. I tell him where I’ll leave the keys, as I’ll be in Berlin. I like to think he looked disappointed.

At Zaventem, I call my boss, check my emails, sms a couple of friends who are desk bound and get on the plane towards Lyon, home.

I wake mid-flight with an overwhelming feeling that I’m without a direction, that this life is heading nowhere.

The thing is, my life exists in so many places that it doesn’t actually exist anywhere in full. A meeting here, a few drinks there, the odd conference and a bit of sex thrown in for good measure. I’m on the edge of so much but central to nothing and to no one.

Where to get a cup of coffee is the least of my worries.

1 commentaire:

Swearing Mother a dit…

Now look here, Travelling, that's some pretty awesome writing you're doing. Why aren't you writing a book, play or TV series?

Your life sounds fragmented, like the whole picture hasn't come together yet. You also sound as if you're not your own biggest fan.

Been there, done that. In spades.

Don't think for a minute that the people close to you don't know exactly who you really are. If you're in sales it's a given that there's an outer facade which is really bullshit. The real you they know, and they STILL like you, I bet.

Remember that film Field of Dreams - "if you build it they will come". Build a life you enjoy and the rest will follow. Forget your mistakes, we all make them. It's all out there, you just haven't got to that bit yet.

Best wishes.