It's entirely possible that I watch far too many rom-coms and I read way too much crappy chick-lit, because every time I fly somewhere I am convinced I will be seated next to someone who will change my life. I've been fortunate enough to travel quite a bit, but just my luck, I always seem to end up seated next to people who have...issues. Or *I* have issues. Me and flights just have a very strange relationship.
For example:
- I once sat on a flight next to a kid whose arms were covered in bleeding, puss-filled open wounds. He was in the middle seat and I had the window. I was fatter then, so I spilled over the armrest, which meant that basically he could not help but be touching me the entire time. I spent the whole flight trying not to hurl and causing myself great discomfort by tucking my elbows into my ribs and pushing myself further into the little window hole. To this day I do not know why I did not just ask to move seats.
- I recently sat on a flight that when I woke up after dozing for a few hours, found our row was surrounded by paramedics and doctors. The kid of the parents next to me was apparently suffering from some sort of swine flu or something. He looked like shit (and clearly felt like it too) and I was just left wondering how on earth I slept through the commotion. They eventually moved him to First Class. Good thing, too, because the rich people can afford to get swine flu and take a day off work. Me, not so much.
- I was on a flight once sitting next to this young lady who told me she could afford Business Class (I couldn't, I got put there through dumb luck) because her boyfriend invented some sort of app for facebook which was going to make them jillionaires in the near future. I've never heard of the app since then and I suspect she's crying over her Visa bill as we speak. Business class doesn't come cheap.
- On a flight to Sydney I was sitting next to Frank Costa - and I had no idea who he was but we had a lovely conversation about food businesses, family, football, and life in general. It was only once I got off the plane and Googled him that I realised I'd been sitting next to a legend.
- I once sat on a flight next to my husband. It was an Air France flight and he insisted on the bulkhead seats (which I HATE with an extreme passion). The seats there were much narrower (because the tray table is in the armrest) and my hips were much wider then. I literally could not fit in the seat unless I angle-wedged myself in there, and then the pressure (and thus pain) on my hips literally made me cry. I only WISH I was kidding about this. I spent almost the entire flight either standing up at the back, or sitting on the stewardess's seat. I have yet to forgive him for this, because he had no sympathy at all and was a shmuck about it. NB: He was no skinney minney either and was none too comfortable himself but won't admit it.
So even with all these crazy flight experiences, I still love to travel and love to fly...and I still think I'll meet someone in that plane who will change my life. Of course, being the stuff of fantasy land, I always assume that person will change my life for the better. Isn't that weird? I also find that when I travel, I walk taller and with more purpose. This is especially true when I travel by myself - it's like I turn into this smarter, fitter, more self confident version of myself who strides down long walkways (never take the people mover belt) and generally looks so damn self-assured it's as though I was born to hang out in airports. Of course I am missing the casually draped pashmina, smart looking leather briefcase, and swarm of papparazzi - but it's as though all those things are there anyway.
You know what? I think that *I* am the person I need to meet in an airport who will change my life. Or rather, the version of me I behave like in airports and on planes is the person I need to meet who will change my life. I've got to learn to BE that confident, long-strides person ALL THE TIME, not just in transit. And, bonus, she won't take up the armrest or have scabs.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Change Your Flight
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