i was sitting in 16-F, but i moved. the couple sitting next to me were very nice, but my changing seats would afford them some valuable room for their beautiful baby girl sitting on her daddy’s lap. she started crying. she looked at me. i smiled. she’s stopped crying and smiled back.
so now i’m in 17-A. i’m still at a window, which is nice. i have a splitting headache and my head feels like a watermelon being cracked open on july 4th. my tummy kind of hurts too, but i have my ginger ale and ice and i’m journaling, so it’s not all so bad.
the guy next to me is an interesting character. i don’t know if i should be amused or afraid. hardly the GQ type, that is his reading selection for the flight. dressed in jeans, a celery-green tee and a yellow baseball cap, he came across a fragrance sample he must have liked. out of the corner of my eye i watch. he openes up the fragrance flap and proceeds to wipe the sample off on his shirt.
i’m trying not to stare but it’s rather entertaining. i don’t think he was satisfied with the first attempt so he’s wiping again. and again. and again. back and forth, he wipes vigorously across his chest like a piece of clothing on a washboard until he’s satisfied and content, convinced he’s sufficiently transferred as much fragrance from the flap to his shirt as possible.
now he’s pulled out his laptop and just-out-of-the-plastic-brand-new headphones. watching a movie i suppose, lucky guy. if only i could pass the time as effortlessly.
there’s about an hour and a half left of the first leg of our flight from dallas to detroit. then it’s on to amsterdam (at least eight flying hours), arriving in budapest (two more flying hours) and a final eight hour van ride to cluj-napoca, romania. i’ll be glad to be done with two days (31 total hours) of traveling. bring on the dramamine.
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