Flying 3800 miles across the Atlantic Ocean from NYC to Barcelona takes a mere 7 1/2 hours, but the 560 mile trek from our Northwest Arkansas home to our Houston family takes 8 1/2 hours. That’s ridiculous. It still boggles my mind, but it also makes me so happy that international travel has become so quick and easy. I don’t think I’d have any desire to travel if it still involved being stuck on a cramped, smelly, rat-infested boat for 3 months. On the other hand, it makes me reallllllllly want a private jet… which is definitely beyond my current projected total-life income.
Having a private jet would be nice for a number of reasons, namely avoiding awkward situations and rude people. The middle-aged man sitting next to Jesse kept shaking his chair and slamming it into into the recline position. I thought it was odd, but didn’t think too much about it until a woman sitting in a seat across the aisle and one row behind us freaked out and started yelling, “Do not hit my child! You do not hit my baby! That is assault!” At this point, I
craned my neck noticed an adult male holding a large child in the row behind us. The woman turned to the nearest flight attendant and demanded that they “do something about this man! He hit my baby!” A few other flight attendants flocked over and they tried to remedy the situation, but there’s only so much to be done on a sold-out flight 38,000 miles above the ocean. The woman claimed that the man sitting next to Jesse was intentionally slamming his seat into the recline position to hit the baby (we all know how wide the recline range is on those airplane seats). The man sitting next to Jesse rolled his eyes at us during all this with an expression that read, “This woman is ridiculous.” When the flight attendants said they really couldn’t do anything, the woman than loudly scoffed, “Apparently this man’s comfort is more important than my baby.” Why her husband/partner who was holding the baby didn’t say anything during all this is a mystery to me…
On a completely different note, the lady sitting directly across from me made me realize that movies like Taken are based on completely plausible scenarios. Within 30 minutes of her talking with the male sitting next to her, she had shared her travel plans, hotel address, city of origin, and name (she’d even pulled out her passport). By the end of the flight, there wasn’t much that this male (or I) didn’t know about her and her trip. Suddenly, the first 20 minutes of Taken didn’t seem so implausible, especially considering this lady was in her mid to late twenties. I guess not everyone’s parents taught their children not to talk to strangers.
Last impressions from the flight: 1) I was freezing the entire trip and quickly regretted not bringing a light jacket. 2) I was pleasantly surprised that on flights to Europe, wine is complimentary and served liberally to those who want it (I did not consume for concern over dehydration).