The friendliest of skies.
I wrote this in one of two airports in Chicago a couple days ago; still not sure which one. Then I tried to open up el internet and found that you had to pay for it. So here it is now, m'dears.
This is my first time using my laptop from an airport. Chicago. Visiting a friend over this customary weeklong respite from formal academia that I understand the kids call Spring Break.
In the row behind me on the three-hour plane from Atlanta, was this Young Business Dude with a really loud voice hitting on a young British businesswoman. He enthused over bars in Atlanta's Buckhead neighborhood and over Jennifer Love Hewitt (“Hey, I'm just saying I wouldn’t say no.”) He punctuated many of his sentences with “Sweet!” I thought about tallying up the number of instances he said it, but then decided I’d prefer to try to shut it out altogether. But then that turned out to be impossible, too.
So I—and the poor man and woman sitting to my right—got to sit through several hours that began like so:
He: “So, you’re English, huh? I’ve always wanted to visit England. What’s the best part?”
She: “Really depends on what you like. Err, what do you enjoy?”
He: “Oh, beer—pubs! Castles, I guess. And I’d like to jaunt up to Scotland, too. You know: Wear a kilt, play some bagpipes, the whole deal!”
So I waited for the put-down. But instead, she started flirting back. I’m trying to think of how to frame this for you, Henshaw, in a vein of pure humor, one not colored by my cramped up legs after multiple hours in the air and one on the ground (We were delayed before take-off by everyone’s surplus carry-on luggage, and after landing by another plane that was having technical difficulties pulling away from the gate.) These things, they make a difference.
One thing.
When all of us were just getting seated, my seatmates and I exchanged a few friendly words. But as the trip progressed, the three of us grew increasingly reserved with one another, even growing to avoid eye contact. This, however, was a silence of camaraderie: We were attempting to make room for one another, to replace for one another some of the space the loud people behind us had thoughtlessly pilfered.
I wrote this in one of two airports in Chicago a couple days ago; still not sure which one. Then I tried to open up el internet and found that you had to pay for it. So here it is now, m'dears.
This is my first time using my laptop from an airport. Chicago. Visiting a friend over this customary weeklong respite from formal academia that I understand the kids call Spring Break.
In the row behind me on the three-hour plane from Atlanta, was this Young Business Dude with a really loud voice hitting on a young British businesswoman. He enthused over bars in Atlanta's Buckhead neighborhood and over Jennifer Love Hewitt (“Hey, I'm just saying I wouldn’t say no.”) He punctuated many of his sentences with “Sweet!” I thought about tallying up the number of instances he said it, but then decided I’d prefer to try to shut it out altogether. But then that turned out to be impossible, too.
So I—and the poor man and woman sitting to my right—got to sit through several hours that began like so:
He: “So, you’re English, huh? I’ve always wanted to visit England. What’s the best part?”
She: “Really depends on what you like. Err, what do you enjoy?”
He: “Oh, beer—pubs! Castles, I guess. And I’d like to jaunt up to Scotland, too. You know: Wear a kilt, play some bagpipes, the whole deal!”
So I waited for the put-down. But instead, she started flirting back. I’m trying to think of how to frame this for you, Henshaw, in a vein of pure humor, one not colored by my cramped up legs after multiple hours in the air and one on the ground (We were delayed before take-off by everyone’s surplus carry-on luggage, and after landing by another plane that was having technical difficulties pulling away from the gate.) These things, they make a difference.
One thing.
When all of us were just getting seated, my seatmates and I exchanged a few friendly words. But as the trip progressed, the three of us grew increasingly reserved with one another, even growing to avoid eye contact. This, however, was a silence of camaraderie: We were attempting to make room for one another, to replace for one another some of the space the loud people behind us had thoughtlessly pilfered.
Labels: travelin'
posted by Alice at 11:10 AM
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