2006-04-09
A twilight zone moment
Omg, omg, omg. I�m 6�3�� and sitting in a window seat that is just in front of the exit row. This aircraft is configured such that�
That�s all I could write while sitting on the plane on Saturday� so I�ll finish the thought here at poolside � yes, poolside in San Juan Puerto Rico. If it�s still winter were you are at� well, I feel for ya, I truly do (wink). But I digress. The plane was configured so that all rows of seats were straight across� except my row. The window seat (which I sat in) was angled slightly, and against the window, was moved forward slightly. I suppose this was to allow room for the emergency exit door behind me to open� but what it really did was reduce the scant room between my seat and the seat in front of me by 3-4 inches. Even a quick glance made it obvious that this space wasn�t made for anyone to sit comfortably in that was even a smidgen over 4�9�. I simply had NO room to open my laptop AND read the screen, much less type. I actually had to sit my laptop on it�s back edge to type the short line above. The guy in front of me put his seat back� and I was in a hell that could only have been envisioned by the Marquis de Sade. An hour into the 4 hour flight� my knees were throbbing from not moving, my shoulders and upper back aching from being curled into something akin to a toilet paper roll to allow the old gent next to me some room in his middle seat.
But� that was the only bad part of the flight. It started out with something I thought I�d never see. I was at the Newark airport, outside having a last smoke before venturing through the maze of security checkpoints, and watching all manner of folks being dropped off for flights to who knows where. Since it was Saturday morning (although just barely� an ungodly early hour, actually), most of the soon-to-be travelers were comprised of families. And, apparently having taken packing lessons from my soon-to-be ex, they had their whole closet packed� and I swear, to get that many suitcases per person, must have also packed any clothes they had stored in boxes in the attic, and the bag that was destined for Goodwill. The baggage porters were having a field day� loading their carts with 2-3 families bags before heading in and scurrying back out for the next load. And that�s when I saw something that simply amazed me.
This one porter had gathered up bags as they were unloaded from the car, and the alpha traveler had handed him his tip and proceeded inside. A few of his traveling companions had stepped to the side and were busy chatting amongst themselves� and started to enter the terminal as the porter did. One of them handed the porter a few bills, thinking it was right to tip him� and he refused it. I listened as he told the person that his tip had already been taken care of.
Twilight zone moment� am I in Newark? The one that is really just the 6th borough of New York City? This porter could have easily pocketed the cash, said his thanks, and that would have been that. But he didn�t� he did what was right. While spooky thing to see in Newark� it was great, too.
Laundry is twisting and turning in the washer� time to go and move it to the dryer. A strange thing to do in what is obviously such a vacation spot� but life goes on. Maybe more to post later :)
t85225 at 10:45 a.m.
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