Again on my way to the airport, luggage, check-ins, waiting. Nothing seems interesting anymore, nothing new.

I always have lots of luggage, lucky to have frequent flyer mileage so I don’t have to pay extra, I never have security check problems, I already learned the drill and it never beeps: the laptop on the side, all bracelets off, no creams, no liquids… And so on. I have my own place, my own table at the coffee shop before I got on the plane, with my cell-phone, with my laptop or with a good book. This time I forgot to take my books so I’m left with the first two. Almost every time I meet someone I know in the airport and today also happened. I enjoy it as the time seems to pass easier, an opinion, some gossip… small talk. Eventually, I crawl towards the gate with my cell-phone stuck to my ear and holding my bag, I sit in my place and wonder how people are push and fuss to get on the plane. Middle aged women who would rather rest their little feet are burn the planks in the line way before the check-in being closed. Maybe they were told that the first 10 people who get on the plane will reach the destination sooner than the rest of the passengers. Usually I am the last one getting on the plane. I don’t like either being pushed, or rushing anybody, as about standing for too long… squeamish, yeap! There are some people with special privileges silently going in front of the row to take benefit of their advantages. It is pretty logical, isn’t it? Well, one madam with a bloke by her side starts yelling and pulling the poor guy who was only doing what he was in his right to do: “Why don’t you stay in line like the rest of us?” Some other voices from the background somehow support her demand. The gentleman in question does not gratify her with an answer. I already smile and wait to see what the angry lady will do next. Unfortunately, she does nothing, but the nice gentleman approaches her to explain and calm her down. What a pity, a little squabble would have been nice!

Finally, I get on the plane. I always pick certain seat numbers and a place at the window… another superstition. And not because I am afraid of flying, is just because I can. As I walk slowly towards my seat, what a surprise: the angry lady and her companion are sitting next to me… Pff… never make fun of someone’s ignorance, shame on me! I politely ask them to let me get to my seat. Luckily, I am the last one. Otherwise, the aisle would have been totally blocked: 3 handbags for each one, a sky jacket, scarf and cap, 2 bottles of water and I guess there is something to eat under the seat. Peacefully waiting, I say nothing and in the end I sit down. I am about to make one last call when I hear: “Miss, shut down the damn phone, can’t you hear the woman speaking on the microphone?” First time I smiled and continued to talk, but she doesn’t stop. She taps my shoulder and insists. I hang up and look at her and try to calm her down, telling her that the door is not even closed, there’s no point to worry since I’ll respect every rule and she can correct me if I’ll somehow be wrong. She kept growling a little, but I ignored her. After a while, the flight attendant started to explain the safety measures in case of emergency. The couple was analysing each and every one of them, even trying the suggested postures in case of plane crash. Honestly, I was amazed. You may probably be thinking I am exaggerating, but it goes on. When the presentation is over, she approaches me again: “I don’t understand, have you seen where are those yellow masks falling from?” As I was already feeling my blood boiling, I answered even more politely than before: “Please ask the crew members, I have never been flying before.”

 

Eventually, we took off. I can understand that people are amazed when they fly for the first time, but it was too much: “Marin, look, the plane is tilting on the left. If only we arrive in one piece, pray to get there in one piece, see if we have the life vest.” I am rude, I know, I put on my earphones and tried to sleep. I just dozed off for one moment when she tapped my shoulder: “Miss, wanna eat?” I opened my eyes, said “No, thank you” and closed my eyes. Not even two minutes later and again: “Don’t you wanna drink something either?” I actually felt like one of us is going crazy. I pulled off my earphones and started: “Madam, may I be left to sleep in peace, please? I am not hungry or thirsty and for later: I want no coffee either!” She glared at me and nudged Marin like “Do you hear that one?” and shuts up. Everything was in good order, I was killing the time with a movie when I see Marin’s wife (never heard her name), covered in sweat trying to pull something from beneath my seat. For a change, I tried to act nicely and offered to help. “Dear, give me my cap, I dropped it and it is draught in here. And there is an empty bottle too; I can fill it with water to keep it in my bag.” I leaned down, gave the woman the cap and the bottle and made her happy. Of course, she is that kind of woman who keeps talking endlessly: “In my youth I used to be just like that, so elastic!” I smiled and put back my earphones… Such a   flight to remember…

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