Somewhere Between Seattle and New York

Airplanes. Magazines. Dreams. Depicts a comical flight which explores reality and dreams.

Part 1 of 2           

                Ever heard of a Bitcoin? I hadn’t either till I was sitting in seat 17D, next to two Latina ladies, paging through GQ. I was halfway through the flight, so probably somewhere in the mid-west. By now the three of us in our row have an understanding: the only thing we seemingly have in common is that we all asked for coffee with cream and sugar. I admit I can’t know for sure if that was all we had in common, since I didn’t say a word to the lady sitting next to me. This is rather odd behavior considering I usually get to know my seat buddy quite well. I like to go beyond the ‘how’s the weather’ questions. I remember one flight it working out quite well. I was about 17, sitting between some guy on my left and a lady on my right. I remember they were well into their 30’s but we all got along great. Great enough to talk all night. I bet the two rows that we were sandwiched between must have been entertained…or just pissed off that we wouldn’t shut up.

                On this flight I didn’t feel like talking. Before boarding I raided the airport store. The cashier lady made sure I knew I was an abnormality. “Six?” She snorted towards me in a hissy voice. “Yup,” I replied and gave her a genuine smile. I was genuinely proud of myself. To think of how many people pass by her newsstand to get their hands on a Country Living or a pack of Starbursts…I can imagine she must get into a rhythm where all of them blend in. All it took to get her acknowledgment was for me to buy six magazines. They barely fit in the little seat pouch hanging onto 16D, but I got them in there and that’s what counts.

                Like every other experienced traveler, I ignore the flight attendant as she does her safety ritual in front of me. The husband and wife on the other side of the aisle are talking. The lady next to me in the middle seat is reading some sort of daily reflection. All seems normal until I notice the lady occupying the window seat in my row. She is actually looking at the flight attendant. Then she reaches into her front seat pocket, pulls out the safety instructional card and follows along. I am in awe. I mean I’ve seen the type of traveler that puts the card in their lap to act like they’re following along, but this lady’s eyes are darting back and forth between the laminated card and the attendant in her life jacket. When I think I could see no more, this Lady-hawk glances to her left, horrified at the sight of her sister who’s engaged in her daily reflection reading. She quickly smacks the little reflection journal with her card, returns to her perch, and finally darts her eyes back towards the attendant.

                The sister looks at me, sees me reading Time, so she goes back to her journal thing. Meanwhile Lady-hawk is burning up due to her sister ignoring her wise guidance; but not even this diverts her attention from the safety tutorial. All of this peaks my curiosity. I wonder, maybe something is different about this tutorial; maybe the flight attendant is doing something out of the ordinary? I look up. Nope. Flight attendant looks bored as hell. She’s giving us the teenager-forced-to-do-something look while she acts like she’s tugging on the ‘inflate’ cord. So my mind trails off…If they really wanted to get everyone’s attention, they should pull the damn thing open every once in a while. It would be more realistic for one. Also, people could start betting on whether they’d pull it this flight or not. People would really see how those things work…so many reasons. I wonder if the Newbie flight attendants ever tug too hard and the vest comes flying out…that would be cool to see. Probably on YouTube. Should check it out sometime.

                Now it’s finally our turn to take off. By now I’m paging through Inked, thoroughly entertained with each page. I get into reading mode, and the third article in I notice daily reflection lady is acting like she’s still reading reflections. But really, she’s quietly freaking her own mind out, looking at the feature image of Skylar Grey wearing a bra and camo pants sitting in front of a vintage camper. I decide to give it a rest before she blows a gasket. So I start making my way to the bathroom. All I can think of is how thankful I am to have an aisle seat.

 

Author's Note

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