Wednesday, November 06, 2013
It’s dark this morning. That really shouldn’t surprise you, because it’s always dark at 4:30 in the morning. But this morning is different. This morning you’re sitting in an aisle seat in front of a snoring woman with nostril hair on a dimly lit airplane that will eventually deliver you to New York City. At least that is what you were told. Of course, you were also told that it would be a 24 hour excursion. Earlier this morning you had realized this was the weekend that the time changes, and that you were actually going on a 25 hour excursion. You can’t help but wonder how many other lies you were told to help convince you to ride along.
Your mind races as more and more people crowd onto the plane, contorting themselves even farther into the bowels of the aircraft, looking at the open overhead storage compartments, perhaps to avoid eye contact, perhaps ashamed that they held tickets marked “BOARDING GROUP, ZONE 5.” You wonder if you would have stood a better chance of avoiding this trip if you hadn’t insisted that your wife attend all of those Libertarian conventions with you. You wonder if there is a chance in hell that you will ever make that mistake again. You wonder if you remembered to put your tooth brush in your backpack. Hopefully someone will squeeze in beside or climb over the snoring woman, to awaken her, or at least cause her to reposition herself enough to stop that incessant noise. You wonder if you remembered your backpack. What if you had simply fallen from that ladder last week instead of mindlessly grabbing onto the eaves trough to slow your descent. So many questions.
The pilot comes on the speakers and says that the departure time will be delayed because the co-pilot has yet to arrive. He assures you that they have called him and that he will be here any minute. He called the co-pilot to remind him of the flight? What was he doing last night that made him sleep through his alarm clock and forget about an airplane full of people? Perhaps that $49.00 ticket wasn’t such a bargain after all.
Thirty minutes into the flight the pilot is back on the speakers. It seems Charlotte is experiencing heavy ground fog, but he thinks the plane will okay to land. Hello!!! The last thing you need at this point is a pilot who “thinks” it will be okay to land. You have to wonder what old “party boy” sitting hung-over beside him thinks of its chances! And why is this plane landing in Charlotte anyway? Wasn’t the destination New York City? Your wife assures you it is just a lay-over, and New York will be the next stop. Everyone in your group nods in agreement. Is it true, or is it another “24 Hour” story? It’s hard to know what to believe anymore.
Maybe after a short nap you will awaken to find it was just a bad dream. Will that woman ever stop snoring?