First of all, I do have to mention that I received many emails after my initial posting pointing out that another advantage of a black wardrobe, is that it is very slimming. Why so many of you thought I needed to know this is beyond me, but I do appreciate every one of your comments!
I am writing this as I sit on American Flight 442 to Miami, which is delayed, and has been delayed so far for 2 hours. There is no sign of us leaving San Francisco as yet. Why is it, that whenever we fly in or out of Miami, flights are delayed But a big thank you to American for phoning me this morning to advise me of the delay.
One of the most entertaining parts of any flight, is taking my seat early and watching the remaining passengers walk past . This is particularly enjoyable when I am sitting in business class and can watch all the poor people pass by, trying to look cheerful as they look for seat 44B. If you are going to be fabulous, you need to do it from a business class, or better yet first class, seat. There is no better way to achieve fabulosity, than by quietly raising a glass of champagne from your fully reclining, ultra comfortable seat, and acknowledging with a slight smile those lesser mortals struggling down the aisle, who you know will be sitting in the upright position for the next 6 hours.
However, fabulosity is not to be achieved this time round. Our upgrades did not go through and we are left sitting with the plebs for the entire journey. It is hard to be fabulous when your knees are almost touching your chest, the child behind you is kicking your seat while screaming with boredom, and the only sparkling thing to pass your lips is a soft drink.
From this unwanted and unexpected position there is a great deal of anxiety involved in watching the people passing by. One of them is going to be sitting next to me. I scan the passengers as they first turn the corner from the door into the aisle. I know that, in all likelihood, the only passenger on board who weighs over 300lbs and suffers from a bad case of body odour will be my travel companion for the entire flight. Fabulosity will not be achieved today.
And then, there she is. I know without doubt, that this will be my seat mate. Everything about her speaks of food. Her limbs are like ham hocks, her fingers like sausages that plump up as you cook them, even her hair is teased like cotton candy. She is wearing a voluminous dress, the only purpose of which is all over coverage, but it barely achieves that. Her feet are squeezed into a huge pair of blue crocks, and she is struggling with two pieces of carry on and an enormous straw hat. I try and force a pleasant smile on my face as I prepare to welcome her to the adjacent seat. But someone, somewhere, is looking after me. Maybe it’s Patsy. Maybe it’s a reward for me being such a wonderful person lately. But whatever the reason, my imagined seat mate passes on by in search of some other unfortunate person.
I refuse to watch for my chosen travel companion any longer. It’s too depressing. I need to have a little fun. So I switch to my favourite game of deciding which, if any, of the people passing by, I would be prepared to sleep with. At this point, as you gasp at my poor taste in even mentioning this, I should point out that I am extremely picky. The raison d’etre of this vacation is to celebrate 40 years of being together with Gordon. All those years ago, I promised Gordon that he would be the only one for me and that remains true. So when I say I am looking for some one to sleep with, it is simply a way of passing time (the looking at, not the sleeping with). And, as always , there is not a lot to choose from
NO WAY, NO HOW
Maybe, if I was desperate.
It’s way more effective than counting sheep, and in no time my eyes are closed and I drift into that delicious state of complete relaxation. But before I start dreaming of things to come, a hand is placed on my shoulder.
The flight attendant tells me there is one seat left in first class and I am next on the upgrade list. This puts me in a very difficult position – if I move, I will be leaving Gordon behind . No one is more surprised than Gordon (except perhaps, me) when I turn to him and say “ honey, you take the first class seat with the champagne and the lunch – I will be quite happy sitting back here with all the poor people.”
A discussion takes place between us, while the attendant looks on impatiently. I lose the discussion (as always), and find myself propelled to first class.
I take my seat where I belong, order a glass of champagne for now, and a steak for later, press a button that automatically turns my seat into a bed, and smile.
Fabulosity has been restored