6.22.00 - 00:14:04
Coming to you live from 30,000 feet. I'm on my way to Connecticut.
I sort of alluded to this during my last entry, but quite frankly, I was coming off that crazy "I feel sorry for myself, pity me" cycle. But I did want to let you know what was up. I'm on my way to Connecticut this weekend.
I almost lucked out on this flight. Shortly before take off, there was no one sitting in the row behind me. I scammed that window seat faster than a fat lady can holler, "More little bags of peanuts, please!"
About two minutes before takeoff, however, some obnoxious folks coming in off a delayed flight from Texas boarded and WHAM, I had to get up and evacuate my squatter's seat. This was not the disappointing part. The real trouble came when the Texans got themselves settled. Whoooo Wheeee, pardner, they are a loud bunch. They immediately made friends with the surly man behind me and some lady from in the back of the plane who ran up front just before the flight took off to scam the aisle seat in between them.
The fat one had to sit behind me. The fat ones always sit near me. I'm a genuine medical oddity when it comes to airplanes and adipose tissue. When I become airborn, I attract fat like a magnet. The Discovery channel ought to do a special.
MUG UP!
(I've been reading "The Hungry Ocean" and "mug up" is apparently a seaman's term for a little break from the regular course of action. While I write this entry, I'm going to alert you to EXACTLY what's happening WHEN it's happening to me.)
The beverages are coming. I have four crisp one dollar bills with which to purchase beer. I'm going to try to keep my money and scam a free one. Simply for experiment's sake. Free things make me feel good.
No free beer. I didn't prepare the flight attendant in advance. To achieve free beer on a domestic non-vacation sort of flight, one really must alert the waitrons before take off. A good panicky face along with a shrill, "I'M REALLY AFRAID TO FLY AND I SOMETIMES BARF FROM THE FEAR BEER CALMS ME CAN YOU STOP BY ON YOUR WAY DOWN THE AISLE?" works wonders. They never take your money.
So the fat guy sits behind ME and…
MUG UP!
NOW I know why I know they were late. The pilot is rambling about how New York is having some air traffic control problems. Between his somewhat inexplicable and rather frightening tirade over the loudspeaker about how dangerous it is to land a plane, and the Texans who are now singing the Octopus's Garden song, I'm having a tough time concentrating. Plus, the guy next to me keeps looking over here.
Entry cut short due to curious man and my inability to be rude and not listen to him talk about the business trip that took him to Chicago. It was a pretty painful flight. Better luck going home, no?
