My plane lands at 9:30 am, Geneva
time, and I haven't slept since
I left NY
, having been too keyed up
. Still tripping on an escape
high, I walk through Immigration
blindly, looking for an exit
. My connecting flight
leaves at 13:00.
I change a twenty into francs, buy a ticket into the city, find the train, climb into a car full of cigarette smoke. Oh right, I'm in Europe now.
Am I supposed to be nervous? What if I miss the train back to the airport? How will I find a connecting flight?
I'm not sure what I'm going to find in the city, and not sure I care too much, I'm just going to get there so I can say I was in Geneva and mean someplace besides for the airport terminal. I'm going to go, because these 3 hours are mine alone, and this is a nice little bit of freedom.
I bum a smoke off a nice girl on the train; not because I'm a smoker, but when else will I get to hold a lit cigarette on public transportation? I buy a drink a small cafe. I walk down to the promenade, not knowing which body of water, which port I stand looking at.
I'm here, I'm alone. I'm alone.
I'm on my way to a perfect transparency.
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