I should know better, I really should.
Lately I’ve spent too much time around people who are in terrible places in their lives – bad luck, bad choices, bad planning, and who knows what else. And I think, “Oh, here’s what I’d do differently.”
But would I? Could I? Would I find myself on the same dead end street, unable to shift into reverse and pick a better route? Who knows?
When I got on the puddle-jumper flight last week, my only thought when I climbed into my exit row seat was, “Ahhh, I can stretch my legs out.”
Then Angie showed up. Angie was our flight attendant. Angie had curly brown hair and was very, very pretty. She also looked about 14 years old, reminding me of the unwelcome fact that airline pilots on regional commuter carriers earn something like $16,000 a year, and most likely need week-end jobs as bouncers to make ends meet. I was hoping that Captain Joe, assisted by co-pilot Ashley, had, instead of working the local Tiki Bar, rested up over the week-end and were ready early Monday morning to fly across North Carolina alert and awake.
Angie came up to rows 11 and 12 – the exit rows – and looked at us solemnly. She explained our important role and that she needed us to be ready, willing and able to give up our lives to help everyone, including that guy behind us – who was coughing and snorting flu germs all over us when he should have stayed home – off the plane before we ourselves jumped ship.
She looked each one of us directly in the eye with her big doe eyes and told us that we needed to respond to her, in English and loud enough for her to hear, that we understood our roles and were willing to fulfill them.
Phew. This was different than the usual ‘mumble mumble nod’ that I was used to when sitting in the exit row.
Angie was looking deep into my eyes. And waiting. Finally I said “Yes” and she nodded approvingly.
But, really?
I turned to my seatmate and said, “You know, we all said ‘yes,’ but I wonder, if push came to shove, how many of us would just try to be the first one off the plane?”
He looked at me like I was trying to steer the aircraft into the White House. During the annual Easter egg hunt. I think he was trying to decide whether to push the call button for Angie and have me removed from the plane, or at the very least from the exit row.
Instead, he went ‘mumble mumble’ and dove back, face first, into his Max Lucado book. I never saw him again.
Screw it. He can read all the damn devotional stuff he wants. I still bet he’d be first off the plane ‘cause he’s closest to the window exit.
Well written…I could picture myself sitting on the plane next to you. Preferrably in the spot where the guy was, since I would have chuckled at what you said!
I would much prefer you as a seatmate! Think of it — flying together to a Writers’ Conference where we’d meet up with the rest of our blogging buddies!
This is a fine piece of writing, my friend. Very fine, indeed.
I agree with Kathan. I would have gotten a big kick out of your comment!
Thanks Shaddy! I think people’s sense of humor changes radically, though, when they are in a 500 ton hunk of steel (or however much planes weigh) 5 miles above the earth.
I forgot to mention: Have a marvelous Memorial Day weekend!
You too!
Love it! I’m wishing I could be in the seat next to you on a flight ANYWHERE! We would talk non-stop and maybe not even notice if there was a disaster!
Absolutely! And then, assuming we actually did make it off the plane, you could write a poem and I could write about the stupid comments I made to people as we were sliding down the inflatable chute into the ocean or the cornfield or wherever.
This is what makes you a writer – that ability to look beyond what people believe is “right”, and see what IS.
If I had been sitting next to you, we would have spent the rest of the flight discussing fear and the genomic drive and all sorts of fun things
Oh, lordy, what a time we would have if all you guys were on the same flight with me! We would drive everyone else crazy with our conversations. What a trip!
You know, sometimes I think you purposely test out these ‘conversation stoppers’ just to see what kind of reaction you’ll get.
I would’ve laughed too, but I the kind of person who tries not to take things too serious.
Y’know, they just flow out of my mouth sometimes when I forget to put the ‘pause’ button on. It’s when I actively try to say something outrageous that it falls flat or people just start fleeing before I even finish my comment.
[...] bad. But I did write a couple of sketches that were based on conversations I had along the way. (This and [...]