Originally published on MySpace on November 7, 2008.
Cabana Boy (CB) and I had to rise before dawn to make our 7:49am flight to NYC on Tuesday morning. There was nary a mention of my Ford F-150 baggage that morning until we had to drag all of the baggage out to the car in the rain.
We drove to the airport in peace, and parked in the Back 40 (long-term economy parking), so named because you have to take a bus from the parking lot to the terminal.
We didn’t originally have seats together on our long flight from Portland to Washington D.C. You see CB actually has some clout with United so they put him in the Premier section, and put me in Row 16. When we arrived at the airport we informed the United desk clerk of our situation and she immediately said to me, “Would you like six more inches of legroom for $59?” WTF? That’s almost $10 an inch! Then she informed me that since I was basically considered a beggar on this flight (since I have no United clout) that I would also be charged a fee for the ONE bag I was checking. Excuse me? Then she decided to be nice and check my bag under CB’s name since he apparently can check as many bags as he damned well pleases. (CB would like to note here that his bag was small enough to be a carry-on and he had no intentions of checking anything until The Muse showed up with the bag that ate Manhattan).
“We don’t have any seats together right now, but you can check with the gate agent,” she said with a smile that said, you’ll be sitting in the back with some chatty 2-year old while your boyfriend is up front enjoying his extra six inches of legroom. Ha!
We walked to the gate, making a brief stop at the Coffee People kiosk to grab a couple of triple shot lattes before the flight. I approached the gate attendant to see if she could move me into the long-leg zone with CB, or move him back to the knee-binding zone with me. No luck getting me into the Premier section, so CB would have to sit in the back with me.
We boarded the plane and settled into 16A and 16B. I graciously gave CB my window seat since he graciously gave up his extra six inches to sit with me in the back. Unfortunately it turned out not to be such a gracious gift after all, as the woman in front of him immediately fully reclined her seat into CB’s knees as soon as the 10,000 foot ding sounded in the cabin.
Once we took off a flight attendant with a voice that could have put an ADHD 12-year old to sleep came on to announce the in-flight services. “Today we have food-for-purchase available. We have a blue box, a red box, a yellow box a green box. Coffee, soft drinks, beer, wine and cocktails for $6,” blah blah blah. We perused the in-flight magazine for the contents of the colored food boxes and settled on the “Right Bite” which contained hummus, pita chips, lemon-pepper flavored tuna (yeah it was stinky and bad), crackers, Lorna Doone shortbread cookies and a square of dark chocolate. It was basically the only box that contained any semblance of protein.
During the flight we amused ourselves by doing three things:
- Writing the first NYC blog by passing the laptop back and forth between us, made infinitely more challenging by the woman in front of CB who had fully reclined her seat.
- Doing the crossword puzzle in the in-flight magazine. I will admit that when I get on a flight I immediately look for a magazine that has a completely untouched crossword puzzle. There’s nothing more annoying than starting a crossword puzzle that’s half done. Having expressed this sentiment to CB, he decided to write a little note on the crossword page when we finished it. The note said, “Get over it!” pity the poor soul who gets that magazine next.
- And last but not least, we passed much of our light time hatching a plan to punk CB’s work colleague Carl.
Punking Carl deserves a blog unto itself (it’s coming). Suffice it to say that we spent at least an hour midflight trying to figure out how we were going to make poor Carl uncomfortable. You see, Carl has never met me, and in fact didn’t even know CB and I were dating, so I thought this a ripe opportunity for some improv of the highest order. Should I show up at a bar as CB’s long lost ex girlfriend from London? Should I be a Russian woman he shared a cab ride into the city with?
In the end we chose the scenario of the Russian woman that CB shared a cab ride in with and could now not get rid of…;^) Let the games begin!
To be continued…
Powered by Facebook Comments