After the fiasco at the airport the day prior, I was more than ready to be on my way back to Fredericton. The trip with Cleo through airport security was uneventful at best, with the security guards seemingly perplexed at the fact that I was traveling with a small yellow demon who, for the occasion, had put away her devil horns and instead wore her "look how cute I am, don't I make you want to have a lovebird too?" face.
We boarded the plane on time and I sat at my usual seat by the window (would you believe that for all the times I have flown I have never had an isle seat? or used the bathroom on the plane for that matter...) and "the man" sat down in the isle seat (leaving the seat between us empty). "How nice," I thought to myself, "with no one sitting beside me I have plenty of room to kick out my legs and enjoy this flight. I sure hope this guy isnt a big talk---" "Hey, how's it going?" he asked. And so it began.
Now I am really not one for talking to people on the plane. Usually they are seated right next to you and so your faces are awkwardly close to one another. Plus, since it is a complete stranger, the conversation is mere pleasantries and filled with lots of awkward gaps during which one person gazes down the isle wondering when the drinks are going to come so they can fidget with their cup and eat their "bits and bites" (I really hate that name for a snack...but I will save that for another post) and the other person stares out the window thinking "get me the heck out of here...." but, I digress...
So he began to talk, opening up the conversation with "it sure is nice that we have this extra room.."
Me: "Yeah, it is. Normally I get stuck next to some big burly man who is spilling over into my seat."
Him: "Well I am neither big or hairy..." (and it is true, he wasn't...)
Me (Thinking I would cut him off at the pass): "That's two points for you then!"
Him: "Oh?" (big creepy grin) "Do you work on a points system?"
Me (Thinking this is going to be one LONG flight): "Depends."
And so, we continued to "talk". The conversation went all over the place and eventually somehow lead to him asking me if I had seen the "Bodies" exhibit that was in Winnipeg this past January. I said that I hadn't and that there had been some controversy about the maker of such exhibits using the bodies of executed Chinese prisoners for their displays, and that the other display "Body Worlds", by a different maker ( Gunther von Hagens...that is such a wicked German name), had a section at the end of the display where you could actually sign up and donate your body to be used for such a purpose.
And because I had nothing else to really say to this guy and I was fearing the awkward gap in conversation, and it was dark outside so I couldn't even pretend to be looking at the scenery below, I did what I often do when I have nothing to say: I said whatever popped into my head. I can be a pretty random person, but I would like to think that the conversation about Bodies, Body Worlds, and donating ones body for such a purpose is a natural segue for me to bring up ways that I don't want to die. And so, thinking that at worst it would creep him out so much he would shut up and leave me alone, that is what I did.
"I want to be cremated when I die..." I began, "the thought of having all my blood drained and being pumped full of embalming fluid creeps me out..." And on I went..."I don't want to die in a fire...or suffocate...or drown...or really anything where you know you are going to die, and soon, and there is nothing you can do about it....but I also don't to slowly waste away in a hospital...."
Then, realizing I was hopelessly babbling about death to a complete stranger I giggled nervously, suddenly self conscious because he was looking at me weird, and added "This sure is a weird conversation to be having with someone I don't even know. Kinna morbid."
Him (extending his hand): "My name is Dave. Now I am not a stranger."
Dammit Dave, that totally didn't end how I wanted it to!
And so, the conversation continued. On and on and on....eventually somehow leading to me showing him some of my drawings (once again in an attempt to avoid the awkward pauses) and then to him asking me the meaning of my wrist tattoo "Becoming" (to which I once again went on a hopeless rant about life changes, how I am Becoming a different and (hopefully) better person because of these changes...how I am learning to deal with change better than I used to etc. All the while he stared rather intently at me, every once in a while throwing something out there like "You certainly seem like a strong girl" or "Well you certainly have the good looks for that..." Just for the record I didnt know I needed good looks in order to get my CMA designation...hey! you learn something new every day!
FINALLY the plane started its decent into Toronto. Thank goodness- by this time I REALLY had to use the washroom, and was running out of random trivia to share. The plane hit the ground and The Dave decided it was now or never. "So...you ever going to be coming back into Toronto?" To which I (probably much to quickly) replied, "NO!! I really don't like Toronto at all blah blah blah ramble ramble ramble ramble..."
The plane finally lands, and everyone starts getting off, and The Dave and I go our separate ways. Free of The Dave at last! Or so I thought...
Thursday night comes along (All this other stuff happened Monday night btw) and Charles and I are at a movie. My phone goes off (I didn't even realize that I had brought it with me) and I look down at it and see that I have an email from "Dave Dyck"- "odd," I think to myself "I dont know anyone by that name." And so I ignored it till the movie got out.
Once out of the movie I checked my phone and found this:
Subject: Keep Smiling
After the first line I pretty much went into shock mode. HOW DID HE FIND ME?!?! I hadn't given The Dave ANY of my information...no phone number, no email address....nothing but my first name, and somehow he found me! It took me a while, but I finally figured out what he did.Hi LauraI just wanted to say Hi and thanks for a great trip the other day. You were a 10 when I first saw you and it only went up from there.I made it to three maybe four on your count by not being big, harry, scary, and fourth wierd, but thats questionable.Your drawings were extremely impressive and hope to see more of them.I found this quote here that I thought was fitting.Enjoy and take care"A good performance, like a human life, is a temporal affair—a process in time. It is good as a whole through being good in its parts, and through their good order to one another. It cannot be called good as a whole until it is finished. During the process all we can say of it, if we speak precisely, is that it is becoming good. The same is true of a whole human life. Just as the whole performance never exists at any one time, but is a process of becoming, so a human life is also a performance in time and a process of becoming. And just as the goodness that attaches to the performance as a whole does not attach to any of its parts, so the goodness of a human life as a whole belongs to it alone, and not to any of its parts or phases".Dave
Dave got my last name by looking at my signature on the drawings I had shown him. He already knew my first name and so (in what I assume was a lonely drunken state) decided on Thursday night that it would be a super awesome idea to Google my name and see what came up. Luckily for him, my dads website popped up, which just so happened to have a copy of my drawing "When You're Smiling"- the very same drawing he had seen on the plane. Conveniently enough, there was also an email link...and so, in a moment of sheer stupidity, this Dave fired off an email that (in his mind perhaps) was sure to....well actually I have no idea what he wanted to get out of sending this email. Needless to say I have no intentions of replying to this guy and adding fuel to the fire...
And so, that is the story of The Dave I Know (check out the link!)
This post is dedicated to Auntie Mary-Ann who truly understands what a gong show life can be!
