Leg 1
At first I thought that my flight from Wichita to Atlanta (where I would connect to my flight to Paris) would be rather boring. I seemed to be in a row by myself, the rest of the fliers seemed to be older and well-travelled, meaning that there would be fewer of the annoyances. And then a woman came down the aisle, and started to get on at the poor girl across the row from me. Apparently, this girl had taken the B seat when she was meant to be in D. D would've put the girl next to me, but after making everyone get out their boarding passes and show her, the woman then decided just to sit next to me anyway.
I got to hear about her broken foot and ankle brace, she proceeded to fit all of her carry-on bags into the seat with us, meaning she was going far over her line and into my own foot-space, and talked to me incessantly about her student loans being due. She asked me what I was studying (I guess I look like I should still be an undergraduate, and I suppose that's true). When I told her I had just finished my Masters, but was planning on continuing my education, I made a side joke about avoiding the poor economy by being in school. I meant that more as an excuse to not get turned down for job after job, and that it's recommended to give yourself more skills than less in today's world. She however took it as a great idea to dodge repaying student loans by going back to school. Keep in mind, that this woman is closer to my dad's age than my own. She then told me I needed to look at this paperwork she received about her student loans, and that I was a genius for telling her to go back to school.
This all happened before we even took off. Naturally, at the first chance I got, I pretended to fall asleep. Then of course, I actually did fall asleep.
I woke up in time for the drinks to be passed around. I think since flights have so few distractions, as soon as anyone starts moving, my body wakes itself up. Somehow this woman next to me woke up just long enough to ask for pretzels and juice, then promptly fell back asleep. I swear, in her sleep she bumped me a few times, her leg had completely crossed the line of her side and was touching mine if I didn't scoot over, and she eventually managed to spill her drink IN HER SLEEP! I guess the cold juice woke her up, so as she started to clean it and get it off of her coat, she tips her coat over me and my own stuff and wipes the juice onto me. So, when I told my mom yesterday that the lady next to me was crazy, I meant it. I moved as quickly as I could, using my close connection as an excuse.
Leg 2
My next flight was Atlanta to Paris. I had about 30 minutes before boarding began, which gave me just the right time to find an Arbys and scarf my food before my zone was boarding. In retrospect, I could have skipped the food because they served the meal fairly soon after the plane took off, but oh well.
I got on the plane with a row of three to myself. I then heard the flight attendant tell another passenger that the plane was not full and that there might be a few of us with rows to ourselves. And I was one of the lucky few who didn't even have to scheme for my row! I was grateful, because I got to sort of lie down, which is always a valued commodity on a 9 hour flight.
What was interesting about this flight was the gentleman who sat a few rows ahead and to the side of me. Before the flight got underway, he was talking at loud volume on his cell phone. I'm hoping that he was talking to his wife, because he kept saying that he was in love with them, that they'd be together for a long time, etc. etc. And this being an older guy (I'd say around mid-50s to 60s, but he looked like he'd lived a hard life), it became creepier and creepier. These were things you'd expect a young man in love to say - but coming out of this guy's mouth, it just seemed like some weird, twisted show.
Later on, I had woken up after a couple hours' sleep. My side hurt and I needed to switch positions, since plane seats are not comfortable in the slightest. As I sat up, I see he's waved a flight attendant over. I think he was complaining about not being able to hear the sound system, because next thing I know he's shouting at the top of his lungs and saying that the speakers are working. Obviously. The flight attendant shushes him, trying to get him to understand that most people are sleeping. I guess he didn't really get it though, because it took another minute for him to shut up, and then he was just dancing in his seat.
After another nap, I'm trying to find something to pass the time. The Social Network was playing on the monitors, but I had just watched that and it was near the end anyway. I look over at the guy who is now having an argument with another flight attendant. He has a cigarette in one hand and she's obviously confiscated a lighter at this point, because he's fairly angry. "Well, I've never flown internationally, so why can't I smoke?" That part I heard clearly, but her responses were a bit more muted. Mostly she was trying to let him know that since the plane had flown out of the US, it was still under US jurisdiction and therefore against federal law for him to light up. I think he tried to smoke right there in his seat, to be honest. He kept asking if he could smoke somewhere else, or why she couldn't at least give him back his lighter. It was kind of hilarious, except that I'm worried that he could get the lighter onto the plane to begin with. She finally ended by telling him that all that mattered was, "I'm in charge, so just shut up and listen to me," then walked away. Flight attendant FTW!
We got to Paris about 20 minutes ahead of schedule, everyone stands up to get off of the flight, and what happens? The jetway won't move. So instead of doing the obvious thing, they try to fix it, call a mechanic which takes 10 minutes, and after 30 minutes of making us wait stuck on a plane, and go back to the obvious thing of just hooking up the stairs. Really airport, was that so hard to figure out??? At this point, I had a little less than an hour before my flight left, and only 5 minutes before they started to board. I got off of the plane as soon as the slow people in front would allow, booked it up the stairs, and got into the terminal. I would have used the moving walkways, but they were clogged with people just standing on them. Um, that's not what they're for people! If you're going to casually walk down the hallway, just walk. The moving walkways are meant so people can move a bit more quickly.
To make my day better, I had to go through security. The queue was bad, but not as slow as it originally looked. It also helped that they opened up another lane, to help the congestion that had started. And since I've travelled a lot, I knew to take off my belt, metal things, get my passport and boarding card out, and had my shoes slipped off so I was right and ready to go as soon as I could get my things up on the x-ray belt. I think I ran to my gate with my converse half-falling off, my belt in my hand, and my dad's netbook sticking out of my bag. I literally ran up to the gate as she was calling for final boarding. Though it wasn't as bad as I thought. I had to wait for the next bus anyway, and by the time it got there, about 5 more people ran up behind me. Thank goodness I had enough time to fix my bag, belt, and shoes, because climbing up stairs in that much disarray would not have been any fun.
Leg 3
I got croissants. And a chocolate croissant that has a proper name but I can't remember it. Oh, and they were fresh. So that was by far an improvement on my day.
The flight itself was extremely uneventful compared to the previous two (other than having to wait a rather long time for the bathroom), and we even landed 30 minutes early. Which meant by the time I got through customs, I had beaten Paul to the pick up zone. But that's ok, because he got there just a few minutes later, I'm alive and am in Falkirk.
Of course, he's sticking me on another flight tomorrow to Fuerteventura (one of the Canary Islands). Not so sure I'm happy about that right now. Lol.
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