Out
Of Control And Flying High
Sitting
on a plane you cannot get away from yourself, not to mention
the person beside you whose stomach may be rumbling from
lack of nutrition on todays service and happy or sad
your innermost feelings show themselves surrounding like
a cocoon for one, three, eight or eleven hours of your life
with intensity.
My
most recent rollercoaster of a flight was three plus hours
to warm and sunny Miami from a dark and gloomy Toronto for
my work. May I add it was Friday the 13th at
the 13th hour
.I am still
here!
I
passed through the cabin looking for my undesirable patch
of slightly padded foam, and breathing the air which would
then be re-circulated countless times, air that was tainted
with many different colognes and body odors of passengers
squashed together was repugnant at this early stage.
The
young exec in front of me stops to reorganize the entire
contents of his oversized hand luggage before he attempts
to ungallantly place it in the overhead bins. I wait as
I have waited in traffic to get here, in line to check my
baggage, in line to check in. I cannot be angry as I too
made people wait en route through security.
My
choice of travelling attire was not well thought out today.
I wore my black skirt suit, fishnets and new $300 boots
(which BTW I could not afford) with metallic heels. I was
prepared to remove my boots, but to my horror and the up
most irritation to all those in line behind me, I could
not unzip them because the boot accessory (which fits over
each boot like a bridle) was impossible to remove. In the
end a middle aged woman, whom I imagine has daughters my
age, threw down her laptop, bent down and removed the offending
accessories in two easy movements. With a fiery red flush
to my cheeks I thanked her and finally walked gingerly through
the metal detector I am officially a bimbo and blond to
boot if you will excuse that pun!
As
I take my seat, relief is written on the face of a middle
aged rather grey and stern corporate suited gentleman in
the assigned seat next to mine .The words on his forehead
read Thank God she doesnt have a baby, isnt
drunk and won't take up an extra room .Oh he hadnt
experienced anything yet!!
After
some more waiting we receive sound distorted information
from the attendant, who sounded as if she may actually be
outside the plane and shouting through the plane door, that
turbulence is expected so the seatbelt sign will remain
on for the duration of the flight.
My
underlying state of mind at the moment is of sadness, my
mother passed away recently. Sitting on that plane my usually
deeply suppressed emotion is right beneath the surface,
I can hear a British lady behind me talking to her husband,
this reminds me of her and I bury myself into a magazine
trying to flip over every other article entitled Your
relationship with your mother or Mothers know
the real you etc. etc. The movie comes on starring
Cameron Diaz; I am elated as this movie couldn't possibly
have any substance. However I am wrong, and as I watch I
feel the tears welling, I take off the earphones & rummage
in my bag for a distraction, makeup, nail file, anything
..but
to no avail. I dont even have a tissue. Looking forward
I can apparently now lip read and I cannot shut off my mind.
I feel my throat close and the sadness starts to flow from
my eyes. The tears come quicker & quicker I cannot stop
it now, my cardigan becomes a handkerchief. My plane neighbor
looks directly forward beads of sweat visible on his brow.
Everyone in the movie is smiling but I am crying. Mr. Grey
now glances at me with a horrified expression, I must actually
be his worst nightmare, better the baby or the drunk!
Then
to the rescue came turbulence, no one likes it but not many
people feel relief at its arrival. The bumps become more
and more aggressive and Mr. Grey .is holding his red wine
high above the table. Now the plane is jolting Mr. Grey
in a futile attempt not to spill seems to throw his wine
at his white shirt each time with thrusting force, obviously
this is not on purpose but he literally appears to be helplessly
unable to control his hand movements. My tears turned to
laughter, he looked like he was in a comedy skit, it was
hilarious. I offered him my cardigan he refused (not that
blame him) Laughing & crying at the same time I felt
like I was on the edge of insanity. The turbulence eased
and he gulped the last of his wine in exasperated desperation
but also with a surprising smile on his face.
Mr.
Grey reached out and held my hand tight; what ever
is wrong he said I am honored that I can be
of some amusement or distraction.
I
did not know him and he did not know me but that grey stranger
showed his true colors and touched me when I needed it most.
I will not forget him.
Trinity
in recovery.
Trinity
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