During one of the few moments in my childhood when I was allowed to
play video games, I remember one that I think was called "Skitchin."
Basically, you rollerbladed (skated), grabbing onto cars (hitching) to
gain speed, and knocked other skaters off the road. Last time I was
in New York, I saw some dude effortlessly (and nonviolently) gliding
behind a van. I figure trying the same will be a good way to kill
some time and get a workout on the way to JFK International.
It's not as easy as it looks, both physically and mentally. Just pushing down on a car's trunk doesn't do it, and grabbing a door handle seems a bit too likely to result in me getting shot / arrested for attempted carjacking. Not to mention traffic: I'm passing quite a few cars with my man-powered 8 wheels and ability to get away with ignoring traffic regulations.
Overly tired and having nearly tumbled multiple times, I finally make it to terminal 1. It's not mine, but it's within AirTrain territory. I plan to leave my rollerblades and helmet in an isolated corner of the train car, hopefully retrieving them when I return in ~ a month. Considering I haven't used the things in nearly a year, it's not going to be too big a deal when my plan fails.
And then the fun: my flight to L. A. has been bumped back 2 hours. This means I'll land right as my flight from L. A. to Sydney takes off. Bullshit ensues that makes me walk across the airport more than enough times to last the rest of my life, but I do have a positive zen moment. Deep breathing, positive thoughts, and enraged screaming do little good, so I create my own meditation. After saying the word "fuck" about 500 times, I'm starting to smile again.
Long flight and story made short, I've got a free hotel room and 24 hours to kill in L. A. I rent the smallest car Thrifty has with a navigation system: a Dodge Durango. 3 a.m. and driving back to my hotel, I be pimping.