I’m on my way home, flying from China to Honolulu,
and I post this newsy tidbit on my Facebook page.
Not that I’m a social media addict, needing it
only as much as I do my coffee or air and water.
Crack is like Facebook for me – you know what I mean –
my back a saddle readymade for Mark Zuckerberg to ride
like Curious George, a Lone Ranger, mounted atop me, his Silver.
A friend far less addicted that I, only occasionally requiring a tiny hit,
is vigilant enough that he spys my post and comments
how I’m headed home at the same time he’s headed out,
he on his way from Honolulu to China, how about that?
Intrigued, I ask him whereabouts in the journey he’s at,
to which he replies that he’s sitting at that very moment
in the Narita Airport United Airlines lounge.
Not one who believes in coincidences, this happening
flies squarely in the face of my foolish naysaying
as I inform him that I, too, am in the same United lounge.
Now this lounge is one of United’s Airline’s largest.
Should you require a place to play an American football game
while you’re waiting for your flight from Japan,
you need only clear the furniture
and you’d have your hundred yard field.
From where I’m sitting, pretty much at the 50,
I carefully survey half the field from left to right.
Not spotting him, I turn in my seat to search the other side.
He and I are instantly face to back of head
he having my six because he’s sitting right behind me,
and a small-world celebration of clinking drinks ensues.
I, not he, of course, have to snap a selfie on my phone
and immediately post the picture of our two-person party.
Mark Zukerberg has a lot of money, right?
I wonder if he’s able to engineer events like this,
dig his spurs in deeper, forcing Facebook junkies like me
to jam the needle deeper into our veins?