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Tuesday, October 03, 2000

Hic!

They called the rows by fives, starting at 55. Mine was 18, so I rode the people movers up and down the terminal, carry-ons stacked on the moving handrail, folded arms and chin atop those. After about the third round trip people started giggling and whispering to each other as I passed by. They finally called my row -- economy plus again, a free side effect of asking for a window seat when I checked in.

The window seat I got happened to be next to a guy who's wife was stranded across the isle from him. After we leveled off, I swapped seats with her and settled for the isle I was expecting originally anyway (it was all that was left when I booked twelve hours before the flight...). The stewardess was so impressed she offered me a complementary drink. I turned her down, but when she asked a second time later I took her up on a cognac and threw it in my bag unopened. I'll put it next to the last one, start a trophy chest. She keeps offering me a plastic cup to drink it from. I feel bad -- technically they're not supposed to give them out unopened, due to some typically ludicrous federal regulations. Maybe I should "hic" and smile next time she passes by -- make her feel better.

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