September 05, 2007

Plane Rude

Between packing, feeling gross, and wanting to spend as much time with people as possible before I left Edinburgh, I haven’t had much sleep the last week (or, hell, the last month, really). So when I got on my flight to Boston yesterday I fell more or less immediately into a beautiful slumber. For about half an hour.

Then, I was suddenly awoken by somebody shaking me by the shoulder. Groggily, I opened my eyes to find the guy sitting in front of me turned around and with his eyes fixed on me.

"Your knee was digging into my back," he said, with a look that seemed to express both irritation and an attempt at helpfulness at the same time.

Now, if I had been more awake and slightly less apologetic by nature, I would have said something along the lines of: "Yeah, well your fucking chair is crushing my legs – welcome to commercial aviation. I hope you're not expecting a gourmet lunch."

Of course, what I actually said was, "Nurgghhh? Oh. Sorry."

He looked expectantly at me for a few seconds, like I was supposed to say something else. ("May I please amputate my legs and pummel myself with them for the rest of the flight as bleakly ironic penance for my horrendous behaviour, sir?" perhaps?) When I continued to look at him blankly, though, he huffed, turned back around, and reclined his seat as far back as it would go. Which I think we can all agree was a stupendously mature thing to do – so naturally, I responded by calling the flight attendant and telling her he was trying to set his shoes on fire.

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Adrienne has done an amazing job of setting up the place here, and I would like to issue her with a giant, blog-based hug, in addition to all the gratitude she’ll be getting from me in person. You're awesome, dear.

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