Jesus.
I had honestly hoped to avoid going out into the world today and focusing on school paperwork and maybe playing a few of the silly hidden object games I down loaded before falling asleep last night.
But no, apparently there is still a balance with the power company. One that I had not received any form of notification about until today.
Reminds me of those days.
The house phone only ringing mostly because of my roommate at the time having forgotten to pay this bill or that bill because he rarely actually stayed at the apartment.
Reminds me of those days.
The house phone only ringing mostly because of my roommate at the time having forgotten to pay this bill or that bill because he rarely actually stayed at the apartment.
Always at his girlfriends house.
They got married about fifteen years ago.
And he came to my wedding a few years back.
After that we haven't really kept in touch.
Hell, I'm not really good about keeping in touch with anyone.
Regularly clearing my contacts list and unfriending people on social media when I change jobs haven't heard from a person for several months or years.
Hell, I'm not really good about keeping in touch with anyone.
Regularly clearing my contacts list and unfriending people on social media when I change jobs haven't heard from a person for several months or years.
An old habit from when I first got a Cell Phone that I still haven't shaken.
Even after all this time.
Hell I stopped keeping a "little black book" for the same reason.
I didn't want the people I was hunting to dig up anyone that I cared about.
But that's a different story.
I didn't want the people I was hunting to dig up anyone that I cared about.
But that's a different story.
A different set of traumas.
I can still remember groggily sitting up on the couch to the sound of the phone ringing.
I can't remember if it was the futon or the blue and white frilly skirted affair that my girlfriend at the time had brought over. I think the futon because I seem to remember my knees being up in front of me when I sat back down.
I can't remember if it was the futon or the blue and white frilly skirted affair that my girlfriend at the time had brought over. I think the futon because I seem to remember my knees being up in front of me when I sat back down.
I can't remember if I had worked the night before or not. I worked evenings that often turned into early mornings. Regardless of working. I had stayed up until sun rise playing video games as I usually did. Grinding my way through whatever JRPG had my attention.
Either Final Fantasy IX, Fantasy Star Online, or a replay of Chrono Cross considering the time frame. Then I would offset the JRPG grinds with white knuckled time challenges in what ever the current Need For Speed game was.
~
House Keeping just knocked on the door of my room. I haven't heard from them in a couple of days and didn't expect that. I fought back tears as I passed my trash out the door and grabbed the dirty towels and traded them for fresh ones.
The tears are still flowing.
The tears are still flowing.
~
But I remember going to my bedroom grabbing the phone.
"Hello". I mumbled into the receiver while checking the caller I.D.
"Hello". I mumbled into the receiver while checking the caller I.D.
"Hey, it's me. Have you seen the news?" My roommate asked in a tight voice. Not a tone I was used to hearing from him at the time.
"No, why?" I asked dragging the phone line back out into the living room and picking up the remote.
"Just turn it on."
The T.V. blinked to life in the bright morning light.
"No, why?" I asked dragging the phone line back out into the living room and picking up the remote.
"Just turn it on."
The T.V. blinked to life in the bright morning light.
We were bachelors so the only form of curtains we had were the mini blinds that seem to come standard in apartments the world over. Their slats stained yellow from years of young chain smoking airline employees cycling in and out.
I didn't hear what the news readers were saying. My eyes still bleary with sleep didn't read whatever title the news was giving the moment. But I saw, as they replayed the second plane striking.
"Holy shit." I said in a quite voice.
"Yeah." We sat in silence for a moment while the talking heads gave commentary and showed footage from different angles.
"See you at work?"
"Make sure you call your family and tell them you're okay before you leave."
"Yeah, I will."
"Don't wear your uniform."
"Yeah, okay. I'll be there in about a half an hour."
I peeled myself out of the clothes I had fallen asleep in and put on a fresh set of clothes not even bothering to shower.
I didn't hear what the news readers were saying. My eyes still bleary with sleep didn't read whatever title the news was giving the moment. But I saw, as they replayed the second plane striking.
"Holy shit." I said in a quite voice.
"Yeah." We sat in silence for a moment while the talking heads gave commentary and showed footage from different angles.
"See you at work?"
"Make sure you call your family and tell them you're okay before you leave."
"Yeah, I will."
"Don't wear your uniform."
"Yeah, okay. I'll be there in about a half an hour."
I peeled myself out of the clothes I had fallen asleep in and put on a fresh set of clothes not even bothering to shower.
A call to my parents while I changed.
My mom picked .
"Did you see the news?"
"Yeah, is everything okay where you are?"
"I don't know, but I'm headed to work."
"I love you."
"Love you too."
~
Writing about it helps. The tears are dry now, just the feeling of morning hunger and the same quiet acceptance I driving into work that morning.
~
"Did you see the news?"
"Yeah, is everything okay where you are?"
"I don't know, but I'm headed to work."
"I love you."
"Love you too."
~
Writing about it helps. The tears are dry now, just the feeling of morning hunger and the same quiet acceptance I driving into work that morning.
~
After that, the drive to work and the employee bus to the terminal don't register beyond knowing that they had to have happened because I made it to work.
Walking through the terminal in my civilian clothes with my badge around my neck seemed so weird. The T.V.s were off, there were no announcements being made. Just massive amounts of travelers sitting everywhere there was space on the floors, every seat in the waiting areas full. The halls, full but still space to maneuver. The gate agents and ticket counter workers interspersed throughout the mass of luggage and people passing out soda and snacks as they repeated the mantra. "You'll know more as soon as we do."
I caught site of one of the topside supervisors heading the same direction I was along with a one of my supervisors. I moved up next to them. "Where do you need me?" I asked as they, like everyone else wore their masks of professionalism in the face of a scared sea of humanity.
"Check in at Ops and see what they need." He said.
The three of us headed down, the Topside supervisor peeling off to find a place to smoke and probably quietly cry as we entered the office.
It was all hands on deck.
Walking through the terminal in my civilian clothes with my badge around my neck seemed so weird. The T.V.s were off, there were no announcements being made. Just massive amounts of travelers sitting everywhere there was space on the floors, every seat in the waiting areas full. The halls, full but still space to maneuver. The gate agents and ticket counter workers interspersed throughout the mass of luggage and people passing out soda and snacks as they repeated the mantra. "You'll know more as soon as we do."
I caught site of one of the topside supervisors heading the same direction I was along with a one of my supervisors. I moved up next to them. "Where do you need me?" I asked as they, like everyone else wore their masks of professionalism in the face of a scared sea of humanity.
"Check in at Ops and see what they need." He said.
The three of us headed down, the Topside supervisor peeling off to find a place to smoke and probably quietly cry as we entered the office.
It was all hands on deck.
A sight rarely seen save for shift changes during winter storms. And even then there was usually one or two people that couldn't make it in because of snow or ice.
But it was quiet.
The radio, at this time of day, usually playing classic rock or country music. The sounds of calculators and computer keyboards that usually made a rhythm under the phones ringing and usual banter between Ops agents, Refulers, Ramp Agents, and the odd grumpy mechanic gone. The only sound was a t.v. that had been brought in and set up at the data entry station in the center of the room. It's black square at odds with the cream of the t.v. monitors.
Like the t.v. at the apartment, that I do not honestly remember turning off as I pulled myself together and headed out the door, it was just a drone of speculation, replayed footage of the impacts. And, as the day continued, various scenes of the rescue operations.
I poked my head into the nerve center of Ops. Where all the radios were piped through. ATC, ground to Air, the topside and ramp-side channels, the phones, the screens that updated flight status, the computer with the flight data.
Our best was sitting in that seat. He always looked frazzled, but when he was in the seat things, even at their most hectic, were some how kept magically in order. The other supervisors and a couple of the more senior Ops agents cycling through in the backup seat answering calls and checking flight info for baggage and passenger updates.
I waited for a lull in the chaos and asked the man in the seat where he needed me. He turned and looked at me very quietly, very calmly. Everyone in the rooms attention on him since he was the one that all of the info was flowing through.
Like the t.v. at the apartment, that I do not honestly remember turning off as I pulled myself together and headed out the door, it was just a drone of speculation, replayed footage of the impacts. And, as the day continued, various scenes of the rescue operations.
I poked my head into the nerve center of Ops. Where all the radios were piped through. ATC, ground to Air, the topside and ramp-side channels, the phones, the screens that updated flight status, the computer with the flight data.
Our best was sitting in that seat. He always looked frazzled, but when he was in the seat things, even at their most hectic, were some how kept magically in order. The other supervisors and a couple of the more senior Ops agents cycling through in the backup seat answering calls and checking flight info for baggage and passenger updates.
I waited for a lull in the chaos and asked the man in the seat where he needed me. He turned and looked at me very quietly, very calmly. Everyone in the rooms attention on him since he was the one that all of the info was flowing through.
"We're missing a plane."
"Which one?" I asked in quiet response.
His eyes broke from mine and he turned to the supervisor that had entered with me.
He gave the room the details.
After that he took a break, the Supervisor I had just come in with taking over in the seat.
After talking with the various other agents and finding out that most of the planes were already on the ground or had never taken off I headed upstairs to help as best as I could. Answering questions the best that I could, seeing if the people upstairs needed a break or a hand. All of us doing our best to keep each other together and the passengers calm.
"Which one?" I asked in quiet response.
His eyes broke from mine and he turned to the supervisor that had entered with me.
He gave the room the details.
After that he took a break, the Supervisor I had just come in with taking over in the seat.
After talking with the various other agents and finding out that most of the planes were already on the ground or had never taken off I headed upstairs to help as best as I could. Answering questions the best that I could, seeing if the people upstairs needed a break or a hand. All of us doing our best to keep each other together and the passengers calm.
Luckily the missing plane was one of the many made to land at an airport in rout as military jets scoured the skys for rogue aircraft. We only found out because one of the pilots had called into personel to see if they were being compensated for the unscheduled layover.
The next few days were a blur of chain smoking cigarettes, forgetting to eat, and falling into exhausted sleep at the end of long emotional days. The only thing to do while the planes were grounded was wander around, do the flight checks, make sure that people had what they neededthen arrange ground transportation for the closer destinations and accommodations for those that had been trying to head east.
After the planes went back up into the air the next few months were fueled by speculation and paranoia. For the Ops agents and Supervisors who had those three lovely letters under their job description : G.S.C., Ground Security Coordinator, it was constant doubles and months of pushing the Union Contract almost to the point of breaking for consecutive days worked and down time between shifts.
As the G.S.C. it was our jobs, to do our regular duties and also to man the security check points to make sure all of the constantly shifting rules and regulations were being adhered to. Being the brunt of the public backlash as scared and angry passengers questioned the need for it.
The next few days were a blur of chain smoking cigarettes, forgetting to eat, and falling into exhausted sleep at the end of long emotional days. The only thing to do while the planes were grounded was wander around, do the flight checks, make sure that people had what they neededthen arrange ground transportation for the closer destinations and accommodations for those that had been trying to head east.
After the planes went back up into the air the next few months were fueled by speculation and paranoia. For the Ops agents and Supervisors who had those three lovely letters under their job description : G.S.C., Ground Security Coordinator, it was constant doubles and months of pushing the Union Contract almost to the point of breaking for consecutive days worked and down time between shifts.
As the G.S.C. it was our jobs, to do our regular duties and also to man the security check points to make sure all of the constantly shifting rules and regulations were being adhered to. Being the brunt of the public backlash as scared and angry passengers questioned the need for it.
White passengers trying to point at brown passengers and whisper conspiratorially.
Often trying to divert lynch mobs from trying to break out right in the boarding areas. Not to mention the business travelers trying to pretend they were exempt from such scrutiny. My quip, often swallowed was, have you been to Ireland recently? And me, being a kid trying to keep the peace, often gave the self righteous pricks and scarred adults a target they thought they could yell at. A little punching bag they felt safe unloading on. I was usually polite and cried as I filled my lungs with smoke almost daily.
Often trying to divert lynch mobs from trying to break out right in the boarding areas. Not to mention the business travelers trying to pretend they were exempt from such scrutiny. My quip, often swallowed was, have you been to Ireland recently? And me, being a kid trying to keep the peace, often gave the self righteous pricks and scarred adults a target they thought they could yell at. A little punching bag they felt safe unloading on. I was usually polite and cried as I filled my lungs with smoke almost daily.
I ended up leaving that airline a little while later.
Partly because of the stress and strain of being both the person with the least seniority which meant constantly getting a brunt of the mandatory shifts and having little to no control over the "voluntary shifts" I signed up for in order to maintain some semblance of time off. Then couple that with the "good ol'boys" culture that was prevalent in the station at the time.
Being queer, viewed as a privileged child who hadn't earned their spot in the ops department, and being someone that actually took the time to study the organizations, conflicts, and decision makers behind the terrorist attacks I was slowly derided and bullied out for my views, my age, and my questions. As the Iraq war started and my friends mobilized I fell into a spiral of exhaustion and depression that I couldn't seem to pull myself out of.
One through line that was prevalent through out all of it was that "drugs funded the war on terror." And I took the bait hook line and sinker. I tried to trace the thread at home.
After I left the airline and the person I thought was my partner decided to move on I returned to my home town. My parents letting me stay with them while I pulled myself together. I sought out help from local mental health professionals. Though their answer was to prescribe me antidepressants that left my mind hazy and unable to focus. And, not feeling like I could turn to anyone for any legal help I ended up working for my dad.
Someone that didn't understand or know what was going on and who our personalities and viewpoints clashed like water trying to put out a grease fire.
So I turned to other family members that I thought were more, liberal? I guess. And found what the propaganda of the time told me was "funding the war on terror." So I went in and insinuated myself into the culture and reveled in the fact that not only was I able to keep helping, but I was finding the same issues that plagued my work place before I had left it.
I can only imagine what the local L.E.Os thought when I hauled my ass in, half starved and doped to the gills with whatever crap it was they had laced the pot with....but again.
After I left the airline and the person I thought was my partner decided to move on I returned to my home town. My parents letting me stay with them while I pulled myself together. I sought out help from local mental health professionals. Though their answer was to prescribe me antidepressants that left my mind hazy and unable to focus. And, not feeling like I could turn to anyone for any legal help I ended up working for my dad.
Someone that didn't understand or know what was going on and who our personalities and viewpoints clashed like water trying to put out a grease fire.
So I turned to other family members that I thought were more, liberal? I guess. And found what the propaganda of the time told me was "funding the war on terror." So I went in and insinuated myself into the culture and reveled in the fact that not only was I able to keep helping, but I was finding the same issues that plagued my work place before I had left it.
I can only imagine what the local L.E.Os thought when I hauled my ass in, half starved and doped to the gills with whatever crap it was they had laced the pot with....but again.
A story for another time.
Anyways.
Anyways.
~
The tears dried shortly after I started writing again.
I might go out and get some lunch before coming back and working on the school paperwork.
Maybe even give my pride a rest and apply for government assistance, but I think that blow will need to wait until tomorrow.
I have food here but a little sunshine and stretching my legs will help, hopefully, shake the rest of the funk I woke up in.
I have food here but a little sunshine and stretching my legs will help, hopefully, shake the rest of the funk I woke up in.
Plus, not having a microwave or a fridge and working with a very limited budget, that as I was woke and informed this morning is even more limited than I thought, my food options are relegated to tinned meats and fruits and what ever grab and go's the local markets have.
Happy 18th Anniversary.
