En Route to Toronto...
November 17.
Ten to twelve PST, but already ten to three in Toronto, if I were there yet, which I am not. Instead, I’m sitting in the aisle seat of the second row of the plane. I’m lusting after the bulkhead seat, which is sitting sinfully unoccupied in front of me.
My primary entertainment of the flight thus far has been the tiny lady sitting alone by the window in the coveted row in front of me. I recognize her as being the person who was driven to the gate in a cart and then wheeled down into her seat. Her English isn’t great – her second language, but she knows what’s what. Initially the flight attendant felt compelled to explain several times the need for the seatbelt on take-off. Subsequently, every time the attendant moved away from the front of the plane little front-row lady was out of her seat, stealing drinks from the cart. Mind you, these drinks were from the ‘free cart’, but nonetheless – she knew what she wanted and no seatbelt sign unjustly lit was going to keep her from her goal.
The flight attendant, off hawking the despicable ‘snack-paks’ for sale on the flight, had to dash to the front twice to pry the large water bottle from her hand and return front-row lady to her seat. The second time, front-row lady clutched the cap of the water bottle, refusing to relinquish it until her glass was safely filled.
I am reading THE NAMING OF THE DEAD. Haven’t actually been able to read any Rankin since I last left Edinburgh – some weird kind of homesickness thing. But it’s good to meet up with Rebus again, and I find that I have missed him.
Ten to twelve PST, but already ten to three in Toronto, if I were there yet, which I am not. Instead, I’m sitting in the aisle seat of the second row of the plane. I’m lusting after the bulkhead seat, which is sitting sinfully unoccupied in front of me.
My primary entertainment of the flight thus far has been the tiny lady sitting alone by the window in the coveted row in front of me. I recognize her as being the person who was driven to the gate in a cart and then wheeled down into her seat. Her English isn’t great – her second language, but she knows what’s what. Initially the flight attendant felt compelled to explain several times the need for the seatbelt on take-off. Subsequently, every time the attendant moved away from the front of the plane little front-row lady was out of her seat, stealing drinks from the cart. Mind you, these drinks were from the ‘free cart’, but nonetheless – she knew what she wanted and no seatbelt sign unjustly lit was going to keep her from her goal.
The flight attendant, off hawking the despicable ‘snack-paks’ for sale on the flight, had to dash to the front twice to pry the large water bottle from her hand and return front-row lady to her seat. The second time, front-row lady clutched the cap of the water bottle, refusing to relinquish it until her glass was safely filled.
I am reading THE NAMING OF THE DEAD. Haven’t actually been able to read any Rankin since I last left Edinburgh – some weird kind of homesickness thing. But it’s good to meet up with Rebus again, and I find that I have missed him.
Update....
Little front-row lady is now switching freely from the aisle seat to the window -- enjoying the luxury of movement, all the better to scope out the cart. But sadly, the staff are onto her now and everything is in full lock-down.
And finally...
My final view of front-row lady is the sight of her bolting up the gangway into Pearson International, nary a wheel-chair or electric cart in sight.
You've got to admire a woman who knows what she wants.
~kc
4 comments:
*snicker*
I'm imagining her family back in BC worried to death whether granny was able to manage at her destination. Meanwhile, I'm sure she's halfway to Casinorama already. (for the free drinks at the highroller table of course)
Welcome to Toronto!
Hey Helene!
Thanks for the welcome! I hope you get a chance to take off a night from NaNo-ing and attend Marsha's book launch on Wednesday. I'll be there!
~kc
I will know later today if I'm able to come. I need to book a babysitter since DH is out that night too.
*I hope*
BTW, I'm on pace for Nano but it is kicking my butt. I'll need a break by then.
What do the pants symbolize?
I'M PERFECT!!!!!
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