Off to a Slingshot Start

After a sunny, laugh-filled week with my family in Colorado, I flew back to Hamburg today for the longest stay yet: 8 weeks! Lucky; it will be at least two months before I’m ready to get on a plane again. Let’s play:

    Bizness Klass

how to play: read through the following comments, and try to decide if they were made by my red-haired, pink-and-yellow-wearing, champagne-swilling, loud-as-hell seatmate, or one of the bitchy mid-50’s male flight attendants, or me.

Are you married? I’ve been married 38 years. My husband is useless now (waggles finger limply,) he’s too old.
Here’s a picture of my grandkid. Here’s my son. Here’s a picture of me with my car. It’s a Mercedes 718DL.
• More champagne!
• More champagne!

I’m sorry, ma’am, we’ve finished the pre-flight beverage service, but we will be back with more champagne after takeoff.
More champagne!
• More champagne!

As my associate just said, we can’t give you any more right now, but we will be back with more champagne after takeoff.
(loudly) Why are those stewardesses men? Men don’t do good service like women do. And they’re so old. Not you, though (to man across the aisle,) are you single? You’re so handsome, and we both like champagne!
(to me)You live in Hamburg? Do you rent or own? It’s expensive there. How much do you pay? This bag is Chanel. I’ve had it for 30 years. Are you married?
• I want my steak medium rare, with a little red in the middle. Just a little red, not too much. Not too much. Not too much, just a little.

Ma’am, I will endeavor to microwave the steak to your liking. It may not be possible.
• More champagne!
• More champagne!
• More champagne!
• More champagne!
• More champagne!
• More champagne!
• I paid an extra $400 for this seat. Do you think it was worth it? My husband is in the back, in economy class, maybe he’s having a good time
(worried). Do you think he’s having a good time? Did they have steak, too? (Now definitely worried that he’s having more fun than us.) I wish I had the window seat, I said that I wanted it. I was supposed to have the window seat. I don’t know why they didn’t put me in the window seat. It’s hard to see out the window from here (leaning on my lap, digging her elbow into my thigh, her breath fogging up my window.) Hey, waiter, more champagne! (snaps fingers, laughs)
More champagne! In a plane! Lois Lane! (snaps fingers, laughs)
Um, excuse me (to the flight attendant,) sorry to bother you, when you have a minute, would you mind checking to see if you have any extra earplugs? My amenities kit only has one pair, and they seem to be defective. Thank you for your help.

That flight made the hubbub of the baby/toddler/boy nephew swarm in Colorado look like that of a light jazz trio playing in the background at an Embassy reception. To do justice to both the tone and the volume, the comments in bold are hers. Mine are in italics because I was cowering sideways the whole time. I’m sure that she thought that I was the most boring seatmate ever – to her questions about how much longer the flight was going to be, I answered truthfully, adjusting for the 15-minute interval since the last question, rather than commiserating and/or calculting how many more glasses of champagne we could get in before breakfast, and MY capri pants had nary a rhinestone on them, much less a diamante cut-out down the leg that spelled P-A-R-I-S.
It was easy to be annoyed by her, especially when she dumped a glass of you-guessed-it on my lap and then called the flight attendant over, explaining that I had had a whoopsie, but she certainly wrung every bit of fun out of the 9-hour trip. Is it her fault that she wrung the fun out of my trip as well? Nope, it’s mine: I should have joined in, listened to her crazy stories, told her some wild lies that would have delighted her, and introduced her to the ever-so-annoying-to-flight-attendants ‘Ginger-Cran-Vodka with a lime and a touch of soda’. I should have shown her that, starting in March, the United Hemispheres magazine has both a hand sanitizer sample (first time ever!) and a perfume sample. I should have put on my sunglassess to sleep over my eyeshades, just for fun, and taken novelty pictures of us with our amenity-kit socks on, all snuggled up in our blankets with our sparkly drinks. In the morning, we could have mambo’d down the aisle to say hello to her husband and bring him a bloody mary that we snuck out of the First Class drinks cart.
Next time, lady, when I see your crazy red hair in line at the departures gate demanding a window seat, I’m going to hope that I get to sit next to you instead of hoping that I remembered the extra batteries for my noise-cancelling headphones.

p.s. I know you’re wondering, so I’ll tell you. Lola (I don’t know what her name was, but that certainly seems to fit,) was not American, she was GERMAN! Funny, no?

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