I don’t know what to say. Flying back from Poland I’m armed with two leather coats, a bunch of not very tasty diet soups and granola bars as well as a large multi pack of Ferrero Rocher chocolates. All in good sense.
I’m in my seat. There is a child behind me who apparently got a real kick out of our wobbly state of departure and will probably get an even bigger one out of the near sea landing we’ll be experiencing later. I don’t know how long the flight is, I’d assume about an hour and I am overjoyed that for years I have not been placed in a middle seat. F.Y.I. the present occupier of the middle seat in my three-line of chairs is a somewhat corpulent man looking gingerly constricted. He’s wearing a brown leather jacket (not the cool kind… whatever that means) and his head turned back asleep, or so it seems. No drool yet, his mouth is closed though not very firmly, hence the previous hinting of probable drool.
To his left is a woman looking through a big black binder filled with important-looking papers and an overly concentrated grin. On her face, not the papers.
Apart from that people seem relatively normal.
Now, before I get accused of bad-mouthing anyone or seeming mean, I readily acknowledge that my own airplane-sleep face is in all probability no more attractive than my unfortunate neighbour’s.
Note: I’ve just realized that my preference for big fonts may have been slightly imprudent. Mr. Middle opened his eyes and, if he’s anything like me and enjoys prying into other people’s personal effects (only of course if they are too obviously shoved beside my nose) then he most likely read my untimely little description. Providing circumstances are in his favour. Let’s hope they’re not for my sake and… his. Nobody wants an unpleasant confrontation, least of all me. BTW, I have reduced my font size to a decent little 10 point.
Now the drinks trolley is on it’s way, it’ll be a little while before it reaches me so I have time to ponder over my beverage preference. It’s always the most difficult decision of the day. I’m rarely thirsty on flights and always parched when I get off regardless of whether or not I ate or drank during. Fascinating phenomenon. If there is anyone out there capable of quenching my curiosity please don’t hesitate.
OK, another has just appeared right beside me! Decisions decisions. Coffee may be a good option for today and maybe a coca light.