Whatever I thought to myself...Bring the pain
"I know this may sound like a mundane question to you given you must hear this ALL the time...will there be a complimentary snack served onboard?" I just ran out of US coin and the nearest ATM machine is 8 terminals away. I've been up and on my feet for the last 18 hours...I wasn't in the mood.
"...ummm let.me.see..." She says as she types (or what I think she was pretend typing) into her keyboard. Clickity clakatity "...Ummm...NO. We do sell snacks onboard though". It seemed to me that she took pleasure in denying any request I made of her. I doubt it though. After 18 hours on my feet...I just wanted to sleep and now due to some clever boardroom think-tank decision on how to generate more revenue by charging for perfered seating in advance on-line, I was stuck in a middle seat, row 39 for the next 5 1/2 hours AND unable to purchase an expired, dried out Granola bar onboard. Whatever...bring the pain.
The best thing for me about being on the 'people' side of an airport is witnessing the human interaction when people are dropping off or picking up loved ones. For the last 3 years I had been delivering boxes and passenger terminals were just a spec in the horizon viewed from the cargo terminals. However, at midnight somewhere on the west coast, THAT was not even an option for me to enjoy. The joys of the "red-eye". Why is it called a "red eye"? It should really be called the "brown eye" because after an all night flight across North America...I feel like shit.
Whatever
Through the "security" checks. "passport, ticket...is there a laptop in your bag?" Said the security officer with the same midnight-mundane tone of voice as the check in agent.
"no it is not" I replied with the same unenthusiastic plastic smile that was reverted to me 10 minutes ago by the check-in agent.
"take-off your shoes and belt please" she stated.
I thought why am I the only one doing that when everyone else ahead of me didn't have to?...whatever...bring the pain. "Sure..." I replied using that same midnight-mundane tone of voice however careful not to make eye contact fearing my pants would be next or I get hauled into the "special" room for a secondary check. I mean they can't keep knives out of prisons and they hide knives in their ass...like how far do these security people want to take this project!?!?!
IF that were to happen...I had flashbacks of that guy being tasered to death by the RCMP because he, like myself was tired and at the end of my day, I didn't need anymore poking or prodding. I would NOT be like that poor chump that lost his cool at the worst time. However I was in Amuuureeka now and they don't have Mounties...they have "Smokies"...and Smokies are ALWAYS looking for an excuse...to smoke ya! More so if you look like a bald ethnic guy.
Whew...I slip back on my still warm shoes. The cold from the cement disappears within seconds. Footwear with spongy insoles have never felt so good. Things are looking up.
I noticed in the line up at the ticket counter two similar looking people that seemed to not be traveling together. Both looked like they worshipped the rock group "The Grateful Dead" not only because of their clothing looks like standard issued "tree-planter" brigade...but they were also sportin' dreadlocks. Here's a question for you readers...The Birkenstock. Why is it fashionably acceptable for those that choose to purchase the said footwear to wear wool socks, then the sandal? That makes zero sense. That's like putting a T-shirt over a sweater.
Whatever.
Boarding. Plastic smiles from the crew. Row 39. Middle seat. One more plastic smile and a remark that the overhead bins are already full with life rafts and crew bags. Whatever...keep bringing it. I'm numb to it now.
The law of attraction is alive and well tonight. In the check-in line up I was hoping I not be sat between those two dreadlock guys. What I should have been thinking is I hope I sit next to that attractive woman in the line-up. There are only two things make me dry heave to the point of tasting bile in the back of my throat thus producing the "vomiting"...adult poop smell & people that don't bath. Yeah, that's right. "Frick & Frack" were making their way down the aisle toward me to sit one on either side of me. God I may be "dreading" the next 5 1/2 hours of my life.
"Hello, are you two together? Would you like to sit next to each other and I take the aisle seat?" I asked the two
"naw dude...we both hate the middle seat" said buddy with the teardrop tattoo on his face. As I get to let let one of my new "seat-mates" sit down...there it is. The waft of nasal distain. You know reader...back in the days when I had feathers in my head, I remember water being free and shampoo costing almost nothing. Has anything changed since then?
Empty stomach, potential turbulence inflight, factoring that I am exsausted and now the putrid scent coming from both east and west directs of my nose, I reach for the "complimentary" airsickness bag in the sesat pocket infront of me. I wonder if any extra bags would cost extra or would I have to recycle this one because I don't have a red American cent to my name right at this moment? My love for excecutive board room cost saving meetings are now working on my last good nerve. For sure now my new resolve for acceptance and patience of people was about to be tested...and tested hard. However, what I have had to self repair from the last 5 years of the worst experiences of my life...this should be a walk in the park I thought as I began to feel the bile creeping up to the back of my throat. I mentally conditioned myself by repeating in my head...."it's all good man....acceptance...acceptance for the things you can't control..."
Lift off. Vents are full blast in my face. Seatbelt sign off. My section flight attendant's previous plastic smile turned into a sympathetic one. The kind a parent would give a child after their goldfish died. I must have looked like a frightened child thrown into a lion's den. Not hard to picture either as these two rockstars hair looked like lion manes.
"Sir..." I look up with watering eyes as the flight attendant sparks my attention, "there is an extra seat in Business class, would you care to join your wife upfront?"
What a professional. What a decent human being. Knowing full well such question outloud for all to hear would not only upset many "cattle-class" passenegers to my freebie upgrade, but she didn't want to offend, the offenders even though they were oblivious to anything because they were already passed out.
"Yes please and thank you"
Warm Biz-class food in my belly, a night cap, and I'm home. However there are always casualties against the war on soap and water. The experience clings on my new $150 CK dress shirt. It now sits in a garbage bin in the arrivals area of Terminal 2. Trashed.
Thanks for reading...and remember to shower, it's free and painless.
