August 21st, 1989

August 21st, 1989

Night flight from JFK – LGW

The New York skyline looked amazing as we left the city behind and soared upwards. There’s something about NY that just seeps into you, at least that’s how I feel about it. It’s magical; truly, truly magical.

Kimberly just finished crew rest but I still have thirty minutes left, which of course will be spent writing (and polishing off the rest of the yummy pudding the First Class purser sent down the back for us.) Kimberly said this trip is her best one yet. I was happy to hear her saying that because I think she has a difficult time gelling with people and is much happier in small groups. Having said that, she’s great onboard with passengers so perhaps I don’t know what I’m talking about!

I rang Christopher at work this morning to thank him for last night (he insisted on paying the rather hefty bill at Nell’s.)

“I know you’re busy,” I said, “so I won’t keep you.”

“You’re good, I’m in no rush. I’ll be working late tonight.”

“You seem to work late a lot.”

“It’s the music business, goes with the territory. You work late shifts too.”

“Yeah I guess I do. I never thought of it like that.”

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”


“How would you feel about accompanying me to LA?” he asked.


“Los Angeles.”

“Sorry, I know what you meant, I just wasn’t, ehm…”

“The MTV video music awards are coming up on September sixth. I’ve been invited to go.”

I grabbed my Filofax and quickly started flicking through the pages.

“Wow, that’s fantastic Christopher, good for you.”

“Thanks. It’s gonna be awesome. Arsenio Hall is the host…”

“Oh I like him, I’ve seen his show quite a few times.”

“He’s a cool guy.”

“Yes he is,” I said, exhausting the topic.

There was a slight pause before Christopher spoke. “Do you think you can go with me? You could always meet me there if that works better for you.”

“Hang on a sec” I said, running my finger over the September calendar page.

“It goes without saying that I’d get you a room…”

“Shit,” I said, interrupting him.


“I have training that week.”

“For what?” he asked.

“To get licensed to fly on the Boeing seven four seven.”

“That’s cool.”

“It is but I think going to the awards surpasses training in the cool department.”

He laughed. “I don’t suppose you can change it?”

“Not really, I mean I could pull a sickie, but to be honest I really want to start flying on the seven four. If I don’t get licensed on it I’ll never get to Australia or the Far East.”

Or LA.

How ironic, that my first trip to LA could have been with Christopher, when I really want to go and see David!

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