Woke up with a severe nosebleed and pouring rain then,later, an incorrectly and unhappily-made breakfast sandwich at Tim Hortons.
(Life Advice Tip #1: Never to buy coffee at an establishment that’s 80 percent gas station).
Trend continued with an unacceptable emergency exit row assignment- extra leg room does not equate for inability to recline chair. Got that switched in a hurry and received bonus window seat upgrade.
Wish I’d kept my water bottle for refilling and I miss my Blackberry already. Flight and lay over in
airport uneventful. Vancouver
Assigned another crap middle seat for 14 hour flight to
Hong Kong- flight’s full, no switches. Discover window seat mate is a young mom with 14-month old baby. Obviously I’m doing penance for something! Baby is a gorgeous doll named Gabriel and I enjoy entertaining him and bouncing him on my knee to help his harried mother. Been there- got the deep furrows. China
Unfortunately the angel Gabriel is replaced by arch angel Satan about 4 hours in--- right about when the novelty of seatback entertainment wanes and I’m yearning to sleep. Sleep eludes me of course because I’m cramped in a 2X6 jackknife position with a screaming Satan beside me whose talents at kicking and punching my left side put me in mind of a young Jackie Chan.
In an effort to gain a millimetre of space and perhaps a nanosecond of sleep, I place my right arm on the armrest, shifting towards Creepy Chinese Guy. Next thing I feel him stroking my elbow, suppress a scream, and immediately draw back into an upright, locked position.
Young Mom takes this as a signal to take Satan for a much-needed diaper change. I figure I might as well tag along since its been such a good time so far. Half way up the aisle, I realize in my groggy state that I’ve already removed my shoes for in-flight comfort (there’s an oxymoron if I’ve ever heard one). Should I go back and risk an un-chaperoned slide over Creepy Chinese Guy , or brave the bathroom barefoot?
One peek inside that toilet halfway through a 14 hour flight with 300 people aboard tells me made the wrong choice, but I stick to my commitments. I’m somewhat reassured when I confirm most of the bodily fluids are pooling at the back of the washroom and hurriedly complete my business. NO PAPER TOWELS!
Figuring the water can only help the conspicuous gravy stain on my shirt (received from the inflight “meal” which did little to help my hunger, but triumphed at tasting like wet cardboard), I use my top as a napkin and return to my seat.
Figuring things can only get better from here, I take a sleeping pill.
At least I think it’s a sleeping pill. I have a habit of tossing all kinds of pills together in bottles to take on the road or to work (for convenience of course). Some people may consider taking unknown medication espacially on a long haul flight as unacceptably dangerous, but I deem it just a Calculated Risk. Most of my alcohol, drug and relationship decisions fall under that category.
Whatever I took, it worked and I was able to get a few ZZs over the next few hours, Satan and Creepy Chinese Guy bedamned. Woke up groggy but excited on the
Hong Kong runway.