So while waiting for my plane at the gate, the woman next to me gets up and trips over something. It looks like just the floor, but apparently it was a cord sticking out of the wall.. the very large and obvious cord. She trips, as in losing her footing, not fall-down-sprawl-out-break-something fall. I get up and offer a hand so she could stand up, and she swats me away. She drops to one knee, puts on a hurt face… gets up furiously and tries to rip this giant cord out of the wall out of anger. She marches over to the check in desk, tells them she fell down, and demands a first class seat.
They tell her ‘this is a full flight, we don’t have any room’. But offered her a later flight, and a medic to check out her injuries. THIS… is not what she wanted to hear.
She sits down and covers her face and starts to cry….then wail. Wail bloody murder. Everyone is looking at her, because about 100 people saw her trip and then demand special privileges. Did I mention this is a giant pet peeve of mine? Trying to get something for nothing. Just pay the $75 for the upgrade like everyone else. And refusing medical attention is a dead giveaway that this may have been staged.
She then gets on her soap box and starts demanding equality for all injured people. Full fledge scene now. Then…. ‘I’m calling my lawyer’. Really lady? I have a feeling your lawyer is on speed dial.
She walks back over and starts taking photos of the ground… and oddly enough, the cord that she just destroyed. Starts making phone calls furiously.
After, she comes over to me. Rut Roh…
“Will you be a witness?”
I play dumb…”witness to what?”
“To me falling and hurting myself. Remember? You tried to help me up?”
“Yes. I remember. Sure, I’ll leave a statement, as long as it doesn’t interfere with getting on this flight right now”
“Listen, I’m trying to get on this flight too you know, these people are IDIOTS who don’t take care of their facilities”
(I actually prefer they stick to taking care of the plane, than taking care of the waiting room, but that’s just me. )
Sure she has a point…. but that wasn’t the LOGICAL one. She doesn’t care about preventing future serious injury, she wants what she thinks is deserved to her. Don’t people just fall down and suck it up anymore??
She storms back over and tells the desk that I’m a witness (and starts pointing pointing pointing). She’s calling the police….. she’s talking about court dates. But little does she know my statement will absolutely not be in her favor. It happened right in front of me, so she will be sadly disappointed when I tell them what really happened.
My zone is called and board that plane so fast like it was gonna take off with out me. She sits in front of me… in Coach, right where we all belong. Which brings me to Chapter 4….
I need a window seat. I like to look out the window when we take off, and I also like not throwing up on everyone. Window seats ensure less barfing. This airline does not let you request your seat till 24 hours before your flight. LAME. I of course, forgot, and I got stuck with quite possibly, the worst seat…..on the face of the planet.
Window seat, next to the bathroom, at the end of the plane….next to the engine. Which means no view, at all. The entire window was covered by the engine. And it is LOUD. Loud loud loud. And stinky. So very stinky next to the bathroom.
Oh… did I mention I was sitting next to 2yr old twins?? The entire flight?
They were good for the most part. Except for the kicking, yelling, crying and spilling Gerber Baby Banana bites and apple juice on me.
I had a lay over in Atlanta, which is my LEAST favorite airport in all the land. I thought I’d get to switch planes, stretch my legs, grab some food. Although I was sadly mistaken. I had 15 minutes to pee and wait in line for crappy airport food and hop back on the exact same plane, with the exact same seat. (insert largest sigh you’ve ever heard)
I have a new neighbor. An older Cuban woman who told me she doesn’t like sitting next to young white girls because all we do is talk. I stare at her blankly as I put in my head phones and smile, point to my ear buds then put a finger up to my lips and say ‘Upppabup bup bup. shhhhhh’
She smiles….and continues to talk anyway. The once the plane takes off, she quiets down. I instantly fall asleep, like I do with any moving vehicle I get into. Once that motor goes on, it’s nap time.
About an hour into the flight… I am violently shaken awake.
I get the stomach flippies…. and it doesn’t stop for at least 10 seconds… it feels like we’re falling. And people are Fah-REAKING out.
The oxygen masks don’t come down yet… this would be A VERY GOOD TIME FOR OXYGEN RIGHT NOOOOOOW……
The lights are flickering and like any concerned passenger, I look at the flight attendants….they’re freaking out too. NOT…GOOD.
The Cuban Woman starts to cry. She is terrified of flying. I grab her hand and tell her it’s ok and try calm her down. She grips my hand so hard, I thought she broke something.
It was about 7 or 8 minutes of severe turbulence. Nothing like I’ve ever felt before. I fly pretty often, but this was by far the worst. I actually got really, really REALLY scared. Have you ever been in a bad situation with a group of people, and you catch the eyes of someone with the same thought as you ‘Holy sh*t, we’re probably going to die’. I don’t recommend experiencing this rare moment… that, I could go the rest of my life without making the ‘holy sh*t eye contact’ ever again.
Cuban Woman starts saying the Rosaries….
I think to myself “Wait… I’ve seen this part… we’re definitely going to die. When the rosary prayer comes out, the director ALWAYS makes people die. Yup…. today, I’m dying and I didn’t even get to make it to Miami!”
Cuban Woman holds my hand for the remainder of the flight. If I’m going to die, the least I could do was ease the pain and fear in a stranger (yes, this was my exact thought). So I make eye contact with her, a panicked hyperventilating woman who is just positive she’s not getting off this plane alive and grit through my own fears of plummeting to my death. Something was oddly comforting about it. Pretending to be braver, actually MADE me feel braver. I started seeing people facing us as we held hands and their faces changed as they noticed my stone cold ‘we’re getting off this damn plane’ face.
I’m not saying it was a near death experience at all, I didn’t see my life flash before my eyes, and I didn’t feel the need to call any loved ones or make my last confessions. I was just scared sh*tless.
We finally land, and Cuban Woman thanks me over and over for comforting her. Kisses my hand and gives me a big hug.
See….young white girls aren’t so bad, are we?
I get off the plane and in lieu of flopping on the ground and kissing it… I run to the bathroom and ball my eyes out for ten minutes or so. I pull myself together, and meet my best friend at luggage claim….
There is more talk of Miami…..how I felt sexy even when being surrounded by super models. And how Boston could use a little more Miami.