Bad trip The diary of Emma D May
Sunday 21 June 1998
1.20am: Trying to practice yoga, like mine and Dylan's guru the Maharandy taught us, but not really enough room to get your leg over your head when squashed between wash bowl and sanitary disposal unit. Alarmed by power of toilet flush. What if you were sitting on toilet and flushed it by accident? Would all your insides be sucked out in sort of airplane enema? Breathe, Emma, breathe.
2.30am: God! V angry man now locked in toilet and refusing to come out, which is extremely selfish. Have to keep running up and down on spot, but air hostess says I have to sit down as am disrupting passengers watching (s)hit comedy Groundhog Day. Am also being harassed by annoying German man squashed into seat next to me: "What's your name, pretty lady?" he wants to know. "Emma... erm, I mean, Geri," I say, unconvincingly. Must remember that Maharandy has given me new name as symbol of new life I will lead when return to the West.
2.45am: Keep thinking of different ways to murder Dylan. Favourite so far is hanging him from large tree by his dreadlocks and leaving him to starve, but that seems a bit kind.
2.46am: Must stop Bad Negative Thoughts. Have probably just seriously affected my chances of being reincarnated as any form of human life. Get out goodbye note left by Dylan and try to view it in positive light. "Dear Em, Completely mashed and can't deal with Goa any more. Going home and have taken your traveller's cheques to pay for flight as had to pay police off with mine. Maharandy says you can move in with him, so you won't need any money. Sorry can't hang around to say goodbye but agreed with Indian authorities that I would leave immediately. Love D xxxx"
2.50am: Negative Thoughts win.
3am: Meet Brummie backpacker in toilet queue who fills me in on important world news. It seems Geri has left the Spice Girls. Maybe it's a cosmic sign? Must write and ask the Maharandy. Will miss him, though never understood why we all had to have sex with him in order to improve his karmic energy levels.
3.10am: Trapped in own personal Groundhog Day hell, where keep waking up in airplane toilet with profound sense of deja vu.
3.20am: Finally seem to be landing, which means need to return to seat, but can't possibly leave toilet at this point. Clutch wash basin and brace self for touchdown. Shit! We've landed. Air hostess gives me puzzled look as emerge covered in paper napkins but unharmed. Strange people in airport wandering around with red crosses on their faces. Must be a cult.
6am: Groundhog Day!!! Wake up in confined toilet again, although seem to be on a train. Seem to have arrived at Victoria Station. Is raining, of course. Bloody England. Try to figure out which club everyone will be at. Remember it's Vikram's birthday and realise they'll all be at Big Beat Nation, which goes on till eight. Cool. Then have nasty thought and go to phone box: "Is that Big Beat Nation? Could you tell me how many toilets you've got, please?"
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