In Flight Entertainment
It was the end of a week long business trip in San Francisco. I had worked, shopped and dined to my heart’s content. Today was the day I made the arduous journey back to New York City. A plane ride from one end of the US to the other is the equiviant of flying across the Atlantic to another country. It’s going to take you all day and night, so just embrace and prepare for the inevitiable long hours and hassle.
Today would be no different.I made it to the airport very early. This was NOT my own doing. I had the good fortune of being put in a cab by the hotel’s bellhop. The cabby was very nice, although slightly smelly, even by NY standards. His impatience with traffic and other drivers reminded me of home and the hurried pace that I had left a week earlier. I was going to see my animals and see if what damage, if any they had inflicted on my apartment in my absence.
The cabby sped on the ramp of the 101 south and started to tailgate a motorcyclist in the far left lane. I watched the speedometer spike, as he wized in and out of traffic. I told him nicely, “I have plenty of time to make my flight.” His reply,”Oh this is the legal speed ma’am. I’m only going sixty-five.”
What he didn’t realize was that I could see the speedometer from the backseat and he was going eighty. I said a little prayer and reassured myself when I saw an electronic traffic sign that claimed the airport was only 11 minutes away with current traffic conditions.
Sure enough, I was at the terminal five minutes later. He graciously unloaded my suitcase when I tipped him five bucks. I was two and half hours early for my flight. If this was NY, then that would be just about right, with current security measures. But San Francisco International Airport, although small and somewhat crowded, doesn’t suffer in the same way.
I checked in and paced up and down terminal looking for any distraction. I hate flying. So I bought a smoothie, took my anti-anxiety meds and resigned myself to the inevitable crowding, noise, and chaos that was waiting to unfold.
2pm
I was grateful to be seated at the front of the plane. There is nothing worse that being in an economy class seat next to the back, near the engine or the lavatories. However some cruel trick of karma always places me directly behind the passenger who not only reclines his or her seat, but thrusts their entire weight into it, causing the seat to bend back much farther than the four inches it is suppose to go. Although I’m a petite to average sized women, it is always inches from my face. It is annoying to say the least when that person seems oblivious to this fact.
Sure enough I was seated behind a father and his son. He reclined his seat to it’s breaking point and then wedged his arm between their seats so that his forearm was now in the face of the passenger next to me. This was going to be a long long flight.
The air stewardesses began the beverage service. A half hour into our flight, and evil intentions were already creeping into my brain. What could I do to change this situation and send a clear message that this was intrusive and inconsiderate behavior? I have in the past asked fellow passengers to please pull it forward a little, with very little success. Usually if someone is this intent on their own comfort over everyone elses, they don’t want to hear you complain.
The stewardess pulled her cart down the aisle. She paused at their row, gave him a slight look, smiled very politely and asked him what he wanted to drink. She continued to our row. Now, my usual inflight beverage is coffee. I don’t really care if it tastes good. I just want to stay awake for the flight. I always order coffee. She asked the other two passengers what they wanted while I stared intently at back of his head, with an an ever growing, pleasant sense of courage welling up inside of me. I opened my seat tray and it fell down with little room between it and my stomach. She looked at the tray and looked at me and asked me what I wanted. “Water please.” She smiled, and I swear she knew exactly what I thinking when she asked,”Would you like ice with that?” “Yes…please.” I replied.
I’ll leave the rest up to your imagination, but as the passenger who was in the aisle seat, I had to get up several times to allow the passengers in the middle and window seat to go to the lavatory. Each time I did, I grabbed onto the seat in front of me and pull myself up while precariously and not always successfully balancing a full glass of ice water.
Listen to this podcast
TrackBack
TrackBack URL for this entry:
http://www.americanamelie.com/2006/07/22/in-flight-entertainment/trackback/