Dating Underwater3. Flight 22

I wanted to meet Hisoka at the airport. I have been to Hong Kong International Airport I don't know how many times. Almost every time I leave the city is by plane, even going into Mainland China. The boating exception was the ferry to Macau. Hong Kong Airport is huge, but easy to navigate. It is one of the easiest airports in the world to get to from downtown, but the Airport Express goes to the passenger terminals. We were flying out of the Business Aviation Centre, which is on the south end of the island. Apparently, getting from one section of the airport to another is difficult. In China, if you want to do something different from what a billion other people do, no one knows how. Hisoka said he was taking a taxi to the airport and they should pick me up on the way.

I don't have a lot of rules about dating, but one of them is to avoid letting a first date know where I live, if at all possible. You always take a risk when you go out with a strange man for the first time. That is why dates are usually at restaurants or other crowded places. On the other hand, I was going out of the country with this guy, but that has never come up before.

Hisoka was staying at the Harbour Grand Kowloon on the Hung Hom Promenade, next to that shopping boat. Whatever that thing is. I knew his hotel was a quick MTR ride away, so we met there. When I walked into the lobby, he was ready to go. That was a good sign. I like people who are punctual. He was also talking to a few Japanese businessmen wearing similar suits as his. He introduced me to his friends, who eagerly shook my hand and bowed politely. Everyone looked Hisoka's age or slightly older, but there was one man who was clearly the boss. Within any group of Japanese businessmen, you can always tell who holds seniority. They worked for a software company, but they were not Silicon Valley casual. I was starting to wonder what kind of date this was going to be.

Hisoka told me that we were waiting for a few more people. When they arrived, they apologized to everyone, especially the boss, met me and apologized to me. I waited less than five minutes, but I have no idea how long everyone else was waiting for these slugabeds. When everyone was ready, a dozen of us piled into two black passenger vans. I was expecting a red and white taxi with Hisoka. This was not how dates usually go. I took comfort in the fact that Hisoka was the most handsome man in this group. They all wore the same uniform and were clearly on the same team, but he stood out.

I realized why going to his hotel was better than meeting at the airport as soon as we drove off the freeway and took a different bridge from Lantau to Chek Lap Kok. While the freeway ends right in front of the terminals, the small road we were on hugged the coast and veered away from all of the passenger buildings. We drove almost the length of the island until we turned into a tiny but fortified parking lot. In a structure infinitely smaller than Terminal 1, we were greeted by a woman in a uniform who knew we were coming.

The Business Aviation Centre is what I imagine airports used to be like back when everyone dressed up to go anywhere and carried small suitcases and hat boxes. Or at least the simplicity of the airport in the “Room for one more, honey” Twilight Zone episode. The Business Centre had a check-in counter and passport control, but it was on a much smaller, faster and simpler scale. Everyone in the building knew what flight we were on and passports were stamped without inspection or interrogation. Except mine. Since I have a Hong Kong ID, they never stamp my passport. I scan it on departure and arrival and the computers keep track of everything.

Hisoka and his friends found that terribly convenient. They asked the woman who stamped their passports if they could use the e-channel without a Hong Kong ID. And of course, they can. Hong Kong has a frequent visitor card for people who come often. I was surprised that Hisoka never knew about it, considering how often he flies to Hong Kong. While I waited in the Business Centre lounge, which was like any airport first class lounge, they all filled out paperwork for next time.

I brought an overnight bag, just in case, but I had not made up my mind about spending the night. I wanted to, mostly because I had never been to Hiroshima, but I was still wrapping my mind around how strange this all was. Everyone had luggage, but they were all going home while I was going somewhere new. The plane had more than enough room for all of us.

So far, there was nothing about this first date that reminded me of a first date.

When everyone was ready, which was hours faster than any commercial flight, we were escorted outdoors where two men in uniforms were standing next to the staircase that led into the plane. There was even a tiny red carpet, for some reason. It was about the size of a beach towel, so it served no real purpose. Between the building and plane, we still had to walk on the pavement like the common folk.

Since I knew we were taking a private flight, I was expecting a small plane that holds four to eight people, like a Gulfstream or Learjet. Our plane was larger, maybe a Boeing 727 or Airbus A318. There were too many of us for a tiny plane, but this plane looked too big. Inside, it was much smaller. Instead of a hundred tiny seats all crammed together, it was decorated to make business executives feel important. The interior looked like some CEO's office. There were still more seats than passengers, but there were also sofas, tables and desks. Beyond the bathroom, which was larger and cleaner than any airplane bathroom I have ever seen, there was a private office. This was nothing like economy class.

It was a short flight to Hiroshima, but for Hisoka, it was a business meeting. Everyone in a suit huddled around a desk and talked shop the entire flight. I sat in a reclining lounge chair and listened to music. It never seemed to bother anyone that I was there. If it did, they were too polite to let me know.

The plane was about this size.