The Flight

I have never dreaded a flight more than that Sunday, October 24th.  Our flight left at 3:53pm.  Leaving for the airport at 1:30pm made me almost as nervous as wading into the water the day before to start the swim.  I was extremely, extremely sore.  I’ve always enjoyed flying before, but not when my legs felt like they were as moveable as tree trunks. 

Every car ride that we took I could not sit as a normal person would (knees bent, facing forward) I needed to extend my legs across the back seats so that I could use my arms to help lift myself up and out of the car.  If I tried sitting like a normal human being it would be game over and I would need my friend’s help to get out of the car. 

We all took the elevator up to the airport concourse level and we all began walking.  3 seconds later I was 5 feet behind my friends.  10 seconds later I was a good 15 feet behind them.  Only after half a minute did they turn around and say, “Where did Brian go?”

We stopped at Chili’s with 90 minutes to spare before boarding – I was starving.  I felt hungrier than a ravenous wolf who sights a lone gazelle after having gone 2 weeks without feeding.  (Probably a slight exaggeration there, but you get the point and how often do you get to write about a ravenous wolf about to feed on a gazelle?) 

But, just in case you don’t here is a snippet from when the waiter delivered our food.

Waiter: Okay gents, we have a Chicken wrap?

Friend 1: That’s mine, thanks.

Friend 2: What a wuss, trying to drop some L B’s Manetti**?

Friend 1: Go sit on it  Travinski**  

** not real names

Waiter: And who ordered the Chili’s burger

Friend 2: Right here, thank you

Waiter: Okay, now we have Chicken Fajitas

My eyes were growing exponentially bigger at the sight of the sizziling plate of chicken, onions, peppers, and overall sweetness.  

Me (to myself): Come to papa, ohh chicken fajitas, where have you been my whole life?

Me: Ahem. That’s mine , thank you.

Waiter: Great, we also have an Asian chicken salad with extra chicken, which one of y’all is that for?

Me (to myself like a 2nd grader in a candy shop): WOW WOW WEE WOW! 

Me: Excellent.  You can put it right here.  Thanks, looks great.

Waiter (surprised at giving someone two rather large entree): Okay.  We also have an order of rice and beans

Me: Great.  I was wondering if you forgot that.  You could put that right next to my salad, (handing the waiter the salt and pepper shakers to clear some room). 

Waiter: Thanks y’all, let me know if you need anything else.

Me: Hmm, actually,  sorry to bother you but you had my order of chips and salsa too if it’s not too much a pain.

After our last supper, we went to board.  My friends finagled me an exit row seat (extra leg room, booyah!) which in mind was kind of like handing someone a nerf gun (who was previously weaponless) to fight Rambo.  However, it was an aisle seat so maybe a Nerf gun and a helmet is the more appropriate  analogy.

Settling in to my seat (again thank you to my two friends for dealing with my luggage) I turned on my iPod and closed my eyes.  The plane pulls away from the gate, taxis to the run-way and take off.  So far so good.

I had the aisle seat, which enabled me to get up every 15 minutes to walk around. I feared that if I sat for too long (or fell asleep) I would be done for.  It helped that the guy in the window seat had a bladder the size of a mouse, so he made me get up every 15 minutes –  if I forgot to.

Landing at JFK was a happy sight.  I was even happier to stand up and walk down the aisle of the plan to the exit.  

Mission accomplished in my mind.

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