The Bus Driver Who Wanted to Be God by 9780698165717

Author:9780698165717
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-11-15T00:00:00+00:00

Jetlag

On my last flight home from New York a flight attendant fell in love with me. I know what you’re thinking—that I’m a show-off or a liar or both. That I think I’m some kind of a hunk or at least that I want you to think so. But I don’t. And she really did fall in love with me. It began right after takeoff, when the drinks were being served. When I said I didn’t want anything, and she insisted on pouring me some tomato juice.

Truth is, I was getting suspicious even before that, during the emergency drill before takeoff, when she didn’t take her eyes off me, as if the whole thing was just for me.

And if that wasn’t enough, she brought me another roll after dinner, as soon as I’d finished eating. “There was only one left,” she told the little girl sitting next to me, who was giving the roll a hungry look, “and the gentleman asked for it first.” But I hadn’t. To cut a long story short, she had the hots for me. The little girl had noticed it too. “She’s got it bad for you,” she said when her mother or whoever she was went to the toilet.

“Go for it, go for it right now. Give it to her right here on the plane, with her leaning on the duty-free cart just like Sylvia Kristel in Emmanuelle. Go ahead, screw her, brother, bang the hell out of her, for my sake too.” It surprised me a little, that kind of talk coming from a little girl. She seemed like this well-behaved, barely-ten-year-old blond little thing, and suddenly all this bang her and Emmanuelle stuff. It was embarrassing, so I tried to change the subject.

“First time you’re going abroad, sweetie?” I asked. “Mommy taking you on a trip?”

“She’s not my mother,” she spat back. “And I’m not a little girl. I’m a dwarf in disguise, and she’s my operator. And keep this under your hat, but the only reason I’m wearing this getup is because I’m walking around with five pounds of heroin stuck up my ass.” After that, the mother came back, and the little girl started acting normal again, except whenever the flight attendant passed by with cups of water and peanuts and the things that flight attendants bring, and smiling, mostly at me.

That’s when the little girl would wake up and make these really vulgar screwing gestures. After a while, she got up to go to the toilet, and her mother, who was in the aisle seat, gave me a tired smile. “She probably drove you bonkers while I was gone.” She shook her head sadly. “I guess she told you I’m not really her mother, and that she used to be a marine commander, and stuff like that.” I shook my head, but she went on. You could tell she was carrying the whole world on her shoulders, and that she was dying to share it with somebody.

“Ever since her father died, she’s been trying to punish me,” she began.

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