5/30/09

It was an early morning.

I arrived back at Reagan a little after 5 a.m. with my first class ticket in hand.

            While waiting to board, I decided to call Royal Jordanian Airlines and check the status of my afternoon flight to Jordan.

            I should’ve known things would not go smoothly.

            The next flight to Jordan departed JFK at 4:30 a.m. on May 31^st.

            “I’m going to miss this entire trip,” I thought. But I didn’t have much time to think about it.

I was about to board my flight to JFK and I was still excited about flying first class.

When I got on the plane there was a pillow on my large seat and a water bottle waiting for me.

I chugged the water and rested my head against the window.

I fell asleep so fast that I missed the flight attendant’s offer of pre-flight drinks.

I remember waking up and wondering how much longer it would be before we took off.

But as the plane banked in mid-air I realized that I had slept through takeoff.

I fell asleep again before even looking out the window.

I woke up to the sudden jolt and screeching noise of the airplane landing.

After picking up my luggage and switching terminals, I now had to find the Royal Jordanian check-in desk.

It was time to get down to business.

I would do whatever it took. I was going to be on the next flight to Amman.

I accomplished my goal.

The only problem was that the 4:30 a.m. flight was the next flight to Amman. There was nothing earlier.

So at 8 a.m., I called my parents again.

My mom was so excited when she answered the phone.

“Hi Bud!” she exclaimed.

“Hey,” I replied in a straightforward tone.

The way I said hello immediately clued my mom into knowing I had hit another roadblock.

My dad decided to call his sister, my aunt, who lives in New York and I contacted Merissa to give her the latest developments in my Jordanian saga.

Hopefully, it wouldn’t become a tragedy.

My aunt called me and said that her and my uncle were in Phoenix, Arizona but that my cousin, Maredith, would pick me up from the train station and take me back to their house.

My newest objective was to find a safe place to store my luggage, take a taxi to Grand Central Station and take a train up to Chappaqua, New York.

After locking up my luggage, I headed outside to find a taxi.

On my way out, a man came up to me and said, “taxi?”

“Yes,” I replied, “Grand Central Station.”

“OK, let’s go,” he said excitedly and we headed for his car.

On the way out I heard an announcement in the airport.

“Do not accept rides from anyone inside the airport. They may not be licensed taxi cab drivers and may not be insured,” it said.

“Oh great,” I thought, “what did I get myself into now.”

The man led me to his car. It was a charcoal GM Suburban and not a yellow Impala or Crown Victoria.

I was nervous but enjoyed the drive at the same time.

On one hand, I was thinking of ways I could bail out of the SUV with all my camera gear if this guy turned out to not be legit.

On the other, I felt like a VIP driving through the city in the back of a Suburban by myself with my own driver.

We passed Queens Boulevard and I thought about HBO’s show “Entourage.”

But driving in this massive SUV made me feel more like Avon Barksdale from HBO's The Wire.

I safely arrived at Grand Central Station and saw that there was some sort of street market going on right next to the station.

So rather than hopping onto a train, I decided to wander the streets for a little bit.

After all, I was basically stranded in New York City until 4:30 a.m. the next day.

I got something to eat and decided it would be a good idea to film this market.

I knew there would be street vendors in Jordan so I thought this could be a cool opportunity to contrast two cultures doing the same thing.

After filming for a while I went into Grand Central and bought my ticket for Chappaqua.

I boarded the train half an hour early and fell asleep.

My only sleep in the last 24 hours was on a plane and a train.

Once in Chappaqua, my cousin picked me up from the train station and brought me back to her house.

She set me up in a guest room to take a nap but I spent the time writing this second memoir instead.

We grilled out that evening and waited for my aunt and uncle to come home.

One bottle of Patron and another bottle of white wine later and we were all having a grand time.

After a fun evening of sharing stories with my aunt and cousin, it was time to start my journey again.

My aunt dropped off me and my cousin, who was heading back to her apartment in Manhattan, at the train station and we headed to Grand Central.

From there I took a “regular” taxi back to JFK. This ride wasn’t as stylish as my first but the cab driver knew how to speed.

I got to the airport around 1:30 a.m.

I was checked in and ready to go. I sent a message to Merissa that she could expect me later that day and called my parents to tell them that I was finally on my way to Jordan.