Bad Guy

I'm waiting for my flight home at Tokyo's Narita Airport and this tipsy American guy in the Admiral's Lounge stops me because he thinks I'm the actor who played the bad guy in the Matrix films. I assure him that I'm not Hugo Weaving, but thank him for the "compliment" and introduce myself.

He goes on to tell me about his mother who was a famous dancer with Jerome Robbins, and about his former teen-idol status in Japan, and then he shows me many pictures of his children, who are clearly Asian-American. 

I ask him what he's doing in Tokyo and why he's flying back to New York and he says, "It takes years to exonerate yourself from a Japanese wife who's changed her mind about you."

Not quite the answer I was looking for, but I was suddenly aware that this guy, Cy, would be talking my ear off for the next hour if I didn't exonerate myself from his table. "Sorry, Cy, I have to send an email!"

I'm a bad guy.

Funny how when in a foreign land, I often seek other people to relate to and converse with, but how I did everything in my power to distance myself from any sort of conversation with this lonely man. 

I'm a bad guy.

As I boarded the plane via the business class line, I saw Cy in the standby line. I was sad for him, but relieved that he wouldn't be sitting next to me on the 12 hour flight home. 

I'm a bad guy. 

He made the flight, and gave me the thumbs' up upon boarding. When we landed at JFK, he called out "Welcome home, Prince Peter", and then proceeded to show his family photos and share his story to every jet lagged stranger at the baggage claim.

I'm a smart guy.