Sunday, August 2, 2015

chef boyar-JFK

wow. it's been a hot minute since mama updated her blog. apologies for the delay! life in NYC sure doesn't leave a gal with a ton of free time. but, after much harassment from some of my goofball coworkers who happened to discover the blog (despite its somewhat NSFW content), i've decided to make my glorious comeback and grace you all with one of my all time favorite ridiculous tales.

one of my girlfriends, lauren, travels a ton for work. (no, this isn't a story about joining the mile high club. surprisingly enough, i actually don't know anyone who's a member. side note: friends. approach me immediately if you've been withholding this very valuable and epic information from me).

anyways. lauren was headed home to san francisco after a two week long journey on the east coast. it'd been a hectic trip: multiple cities. dozens of cranky clients. too many disgusting hotel meals. so you can imagine her frustration upon arriving at the gate at la guardia airport to find her flight home was delayed. after each announcement, her hope plummeted as her departure time was pushed farther and farther away. of course, the only way to stay sane and pass the time was at the airport bar.

so there she was. sipping on her glass of sauvignon blanc cursing the airline gods. among her, were many an airline passenger doing the exact same thing. among them, a guy around her age sipping on a beer. after a few minutes of coyly making eye contact, he struck up a conversation (they say misery loves company. turns out, it also makes for a great pickup line). so they commiserated over their delayed flight, shared their stories of where they're from and what they do (his name was christian. he was a chef working at a restaurant in london. home for a few weeks visiting his family in arizona).

they enjoyed another beverage together. lauren started to think things were looking up! he's a chef for crying out loud. and a cute one at that. there had to have been a reason she met this young man at this moment in time. if anything for the potential of living out her dream: free food and a pen pal across the pond.

but then she heard over the loudspeaker: her flight was canceled.

grumbles erupted around them. frustrated, they threw the last drops of their beverages back, closed their tab and made their way over to the customer service area with the swarm of unhappy airline travelers. at least they weren't alone in the situation. they had alcohol on their side.

after forty minutes of arguing, back and forth, un-booking and rebooking, their flight was miraculously un-canceled and scheduled to leave in 2 hours. with that time to kill, christian suggested they grab a bite to eat. of course lauren complied, excited by the idea of picking a chef's brain over food (and consuming more wine). so they sat. and they ate. and they laughed a ton. and they ended up drinking an entire bottle of wine. lauren was actually having quite a pleasant experience at an airport, which was otherwise unheard of.

but then her phone rang. it was an automated update from the airline. the flight was canceled. again.

so back to the customer service desk they went. accompanied by their white wine buzz. as it turned out, there were no other flights departing that night or the next morning from la guardia. (which isn't surprising. airline travel is so easy and accommodating in the NYC area). they were ultimately both rebooked on flights departing from JFK the next day. they'd have to cab it from la guardia that night and stay at a hotel near JFK airport.

maybe it was the wine talking. maybe it was her apprehensiveness to stay alone in a shady neighborhood. maybe it was how sweet and adorable the chef was. or maybe she just wanted to be featured in my blog. but since her company was paying for the hotel room, she offered him to stay with her. but not before they became facebook friends. so in the instance he did in fact turn out to be an ax murder and chop her into a million pieces, there'd at least be a paper trail.

so off to the hampton inn they went. they checked in. went outside to smoke a cigarette. and made their across the street to the only thing that was open: a gas station bodega to purchase more booze. lauren got a bottle of wine. christian a six pack of beer.

back at the room (which, for the record, had two queen beds. lauren made sure of that. she didn't want to come off like a floosy) they sat in their respective beds and drank their respective beverages. they turned on the tv and watched the movie tremors. because nothing says romance like a kevin bacon thriller while chillin' in a hotel room with a strange man you just met.

the movie ended. the majority of their beverages consumed. an awkward silence overcame the room.

so…, christian said, do you… want to come over here?
that’s your move? lauren slurred. making her way over to his bed.
yeah, I guess so!

well, that was all it took. and there, in that shady hotel room, lauren boned the chef. with one of his foreign condoms straight from london.

her 4 a.m. wakeup call came around much faster than she'd had liked. the pounding wine hangover wasn't doing her any favors either. but she got up, snuck out of the hotel room of shame, and headed home. where she went straight to the office.

after a long day at work (and a burrito to cure the hangover) lauren's roommate picked her up from the office so they could grab some pho for dinner. while in the car, her roommate noticed something.

um, what is that thing on your neck? she asked lauren.
what thing on my neck?! lauren panicked. she'd had her hair up at the office all day.
girl, i think there's a hickey on your neck.

lauren pulled down the visor and looked in the mirror. and sure enough. there it was. in all its red round glory. a hickey right smack in the middle of her neck. in plain sight.

at least she had a damn good story behind it. worth it.

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