And then theres me. In a metal tube in the sky with stewards and moms and dads and workerbees headed to St. John’s. In New Foundland. In Canada. Which is not and should never be referred to as ‘America’s Hat’. They do not like it. That is but one of the life lessons I have tucked under my arm in the great north. Among the others:
1. Stewarde- flight attendants smile. Do not mistake this gesture as friendly.
2. Whether or not you actually order and pay for food at the irish pub next to gate C82 at Newark Liberty Airport has nothing to do with you actually getting food. Do not be fooled.
3. You can be pleasantly surprised by the quality of your single serving airbuddy neighbor in the most delightful ways if you just concentrate on not being a dick.
We are cruising at altitude and have been served our liquid refreshment. The LEGO movie is in full swing and the adorable little girl at the end of our row has just settled in for a nap. All things [it occurs to me to wonder if other passengers can see me flub these words before spellcheck catches them] — All things considered it’s probably going to be a decent fli- holy shit theyre serving dinner. actual. dinner in first class. Elitist punks!
PS: No wait, shes back up. we’re going to color with markers in her book.
Jelly?