As usual, I had booked a window seat - it’s a toss-up as to whether I think I’d like to use the rest room on the plane, or have people climb over me continually. I have internal fortitude, hence the window seat for a two and a half hour flight: no climbing over nor being climbed over. It works quite well.
Perhaps the fact that I was Group Six for boarding had something to do with the extraordinary slowness of the passengers in front of me to get themselves seated, but either way, there was an actual stationary queue in the thingie, the jetway, whatever they call the connection between the gate and the plane. It took a while to reach my row, and when I did, and after my “excuse me”s to the woman in the middle seat, and her bitter rant expressing her incredulity that a person travelling with a DOG would be given the middle seat, I offered her my window seat (ugh, I hate the middle seat) which she accepted as though it were her due.
Whatever.
I took out my book, switched on the light and started reading.
She was very busy.
Talking to the dog, explaining to me, explaining to my other seat-mate (loudly, since he had to hear a voice from far away, two seats over) about how the dog would sleep, really it would, it would be fine, go to sleep, and then about how the dog wasn’t sleeping and no, you can’t get up, go to SLEEP, bending down to adjust the carrier bag, sitting up, elbowing me as she takes off her jacket, bending down some more to tell the dog to sleep, MORE explanations to both of us, tapping my other seat-mate, reaching over me, just in case he wasn’t paying quite enough attention to her dilemma.
Delightful, but hey, it’s only a couple of hours, I’ll survive.
Eventually the dog came out of the carrier and onto her lap, and was perfectly quiet and still, unlike the owner.
At which point, the flight attendant comes over to ask me and the non-dog-carrying-aboard seat-mate if we’re ok with the dog being out of its carrier. She doesn’t quite get to finish her question before dog woman launches into a long explanation and discussion of her dog’s state of wakefulness, nervousness and general disposition, while the flight attendant politely tries to explain that her concern is less with the dog than with the other passengers. Dog woman cannot comprehend, but is silent long enough for me and non-dog-man to be asked if we’re ok with the dog on the lap. She does however manage to insert another rant concerning her dog's shots and documentation thereof, and how it was never checked. The flight attendant was unable to offer any insight.
Realizing that it’s a full flight and that any expression of dissatisfaction on my part, if it doesn't actually lead to an immediate seat reassignment, will by default cause an even less pleasant flight experience as dog woman comes to the sad realization (which she will surely (a) take personally and (b) regard as an unforgiveable character flaw, punishable only by more fidgeting and loudness, or perhaps other irritations as yet unimagined by me) that not everyone loves her dog quite as much as she does, and that not everyone (i.e. me) is not as thrilled as she would expect, to have such a wonderful creature next to them.
I assure the flight attendant that it’s fine.
It’s not, but I am made of fairly stern stuff, much as I enjoy a whinge.
A few minutes later the First Class flight attendent stops by to ask if I’d like to change seats. I bravely insist that I'm fine. She mentions a First Class seat. I accept with alacrity, and as I vacate my seat, dog woman, who is sitting in what was to have been my seat but which she seems to have forgotten had been given up for her, says to me “It's a pleasure to see you leave”.
All I can do is shake my head and mutter loudly (quite loudly, to my new seat-mate, who does not have a dog, and to both the Economy and First Class flight attendants, who were both first class, I should point out) “Some people...” as I repeat her parting quip.
Delightful, but hey, it’s only a couple of hours, I’ll survive.
Eventually the dog came out of the carrier and onto her lap, and was perfectly quiet and still, unlike the owner.
At which point, the flight attendant comes over to ask me and the non-dog-carrying-aboard seat-mate if we’re ok with the dog being out of its carrier. She doesn’t quite get to finish her question before dog woman launches into a long explanation and discussion of her dog’s state of wakefulness, nervousness and general disposition, while the flight attendant politely tries to explain that her concern is less with the dog than with the other passengers. Dog woman cannot comprehend, but is silent long enough for me and non-dog-man to be asked if we’re ok with the dog on the lap. She does however manage to insert another rant concerning her dog's shots and documentation thereof, and how it was never checked. The flight attendant was unable to offer any insight.
Realizing that it’s a full flight and that any expression of dissatisfaction on my part, if it doesn't actually lead to an immediate seat reassignment, will by default cause an even less pleasant flight experience as dog woman comes to the sad realization (which she will surely (a) take personally and (b) regard as an unforgiveable character flaw, punishable only by more fidgeting and loudness, or perhaps other irritations as yet unimagined by me) that not everyone loves her dog quite as much as she does, and that not everyone (i.e. me) is not as thrilled as she would expect, to have such a wonderful creature next to them.
I assure the flight attendant that it’s fine.
It’s not, but I am made of fairly stern stuff, much as I enjoy a whinge.
A few minutes later the First Class flight attendent stops by to ask if I’d like to change seats. I bravely insist that I'm fine. She mentions a First Class seat. I accept with alacrity, and as I vacate my seat, dog woman, who is sitting in what was to have been my seat but which she seems to have forgotten had been given up for her, says to me “It's a pleasure to see you leave”.
Truly.
All I can do is shake my head and mutter loudly (quite loudly, to my new seat-mate, who does not have a dog, and to both the Economy and First Class flight attendants, who were both first class, I should point out) “Some people...” as I repeat her parting quip.
In better news, I'm home (and my house didn't flood from the rains in my absence) from Bead Fest Miami, and although I may not have broken even, my insistence that this was a marketing gig, rather than for financial enrichment, may actually be true, as there's talk of my coming back down to Miami in the winter to teach the local guild, which if they're all like Harriet and her friends, should make it a joy. Not to mention the fabulous conversations and the Fondling of Beads (pictures to follow; I need sleep!) and the swim in the outdoor pool this morning.
And then tomorrow I finish my taxes (and post pictures), and on Monday I start the new job.
Things could be a whole lot worse.
2 comments:
Good luck on Monday! (Of the dog woman, I will say nothing.....)
Some people . . . eek! :( You make me remember what I do NOT miss about business travel.
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