Flight and Arrival : complete version

Nov 4th 2008

My plan was to begin by saying that i am sitting here in the aisle seat of my continental jet listening to music by john coltrane. however, since my music player doesnt seem to be working, i am instead sitting here listening to the movie Henry Poole is Here, making sure to keep my seatbelt on in case things get nuts. But lets start at the beginning.

I woke at 5am from one of those sleeps where it seems like you just closed your eyes and suddenly your alarm is going off. My dad kindly drove me to the Newark airport. Airports are interesing i decided. I found myself walking past random groups of people wondering, what business do you and your son have in aruba, sir? or I didnt know St maartens was spelled that way, why are there only two peopl sitting by that gate do they know each other? will they go the whole journey wihtout talking? Airports are prime people watching locations.

My luck can't seem to decide if it wants to comply with London rules or general real life rules. I got in, checked my bag, no trouble with the backpack as a carry on (thanks again jess)! The lady at checkin eyes me suspiciously and asks how old i am. 22, i reply. And then she just said something about me being a pretty girl. several questions arose here. why is this relevant to my age? why did you give me that look?`what are you thinking i legit slept 4 hours? The odd occurrences begin...

I can never seem to get through without some sort of trouble which eventually makes a scene. First I asked the man checking the passports if I needed to put all my liquids in a plastic bag, to which he replied “eh. .. well.. yeah. I mean you’re supposed to ..” and kind of shrugged along with some shifty eyes. Huh, I think. So I do that, because he was oh so forceful and convincing. Well, mainly because I didn’t want someone else to stop me. I put my shoes and jacket in the gray box so they can check if I am packing heat in my huge coat. I go to walk through the metal detector and the man on the other side tells me to take off my vest. Then my belt… a bit forward I thought. But my pants WILL fall down. This could get awkward. But I make it through, only to have a man whisk me and my bag away to a special kiosk where he pulls out a water bottle I had ( How could I have been so careless??!) . Luckily he just throws it away and lets me on my way.

Walking towards my gate, I stop for some yoghurt (I shall spell things british-ly from now on just to annoy you) at au bon pain (exactly what I wanted to eat and where I wanted it to be from: one point to my London luck). Then once I found my gate, I decide to go to the bathroom so as to avoid the creepy claustrophobic bathrooms as much as possible. I walk out and they call my row to board, so I just walk up to the desk and walk on with no waiting ( +1 pt to London).

I sit in my aisle seat on the plane, next to a British woman whose husband is sitting two rows up. She mentions to me and the man in the window seat about how they are separated and it is unfortunate how airlines do this and blah blah blah. Then an American lady a few rows up just asked some guy to move so that she could sit in the same row as her kids. “That’s how you do it,” says British lady, “English people aren’t brave.” Window man and I just kind of chuckle awkwardly, probably both thinking, God I hope she doesn’t ask us to switch. I felt so torn. I will happily switch seats with someone, but this would be going from an aisle seat to a middle seat. Who knew who would fill the surrounding seats? Smelly people? Small whiny kick your seat children? I just didn’t know. Not to mention the lack of leg room. And the fact that if I needed to go to the bathroom I would probably have to wake someone up. No. No I refused. I try to be a nice person, but I just will not give up my aisle seat. I felt guilty and defeated and selfish. (1 pt for American luck)

But what’s this! It seems the doors are closed and no one has sat next to this person’s husband! So my neighbor got to relocate, and I was guilt free and left with an empty seat next to me ( +1 to London). I also found out the entertainment was much better than I thought. I looked online and it said I would get my choice of Space Chimps or Get Smart and that is all. Well luckily I got my own little tv with many tv, movie and music options. (1 to lon) Thus far, continental is ok (though I smell a curry meal (-1) coming my way) but I feel like I am cheating on Richard Branson. I miss Virgin Atlantic. So I watch the movie Bullit while I eat my curry – I got the veggie meal even though I entered this preference online waaay too late ( +1 to lon). Bullit was my first Steve McQueen movie. He’s quite good. And Daniel Craig reminds me a lot of a poor man’s Steve McQueen.

Unfortunately the kid in front of me reclined his seat all the way for a good chunk of the flight, though he asked me, so we will say that breaks even. However, whoever was behind me decided it would be fun to kick or punch my seat on and off for several hours (-2). BUT a lovely British man moved his smaller bag from the overhead compartment so I could fit my big backpack on it (+1). Then when I was hoping for a snack, I got not only a snack but a second full meal! With another lovely vegan cookie.

Now let’s just hope I can get to Jenna’s. Seeing as I can’t find the piece of paper with her address and phone number written on it. And the phone I have with me needs to be topped up so it won’t work. All I know is I have to get to Chalk Farm tube station and hope that she will be there waiting. Boy isn’t life exciting?