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April 22, 2005Stuck at the GateI'm looking out the window of a McDonnell Douglas S80. Poor thing has seen some better days. The springs of 15F are a bit saggy and the seat pocket in front of me juts out at a crooked angle, catching on my bag and exposing a galaxy of forgotten peanut crumbs. Another American S80, tail number N963TW occupies the slot next to us, surrounded by luggage cars, Gategourmet and the lavatory waste truck. The bustle of activity over there is in stark contrast to the lack of activity at ORD gate H14. My flight out to San Francisco has been delayed for 45 minutes due to "weather conditions as reported by Chicago and Dallas." There are a some young families on board. One mother bravely travels solo with her rambunctious toddler. She speaks to him half in Spanish and half in English, explaining to the couple next to her that children can learn anything. Tabula rasa and such. Bet you anything she'll be unpacking her luggage in Berkeley. Another little blonde boy, just 18 months old, bounces happily on a chair three rows up, giggling while he pushes the Fisher-Price-esque yellow light buttons and that one enticing, orange flight attendant call button. The pilot walks from the cockpit to the rear, what is it about airplanes that always makes men's shoulders broader and their stance taller? Yum. Posted by carolyn at April 22, 2005 01:34 AM CommentsWell, now, Mark Twainette. THIS is blogging at its finest. I love it anytime when the words cockpit, rear and "shoulders broad" can be contained in one G-rated sentence. Keep up the good work, Butterfly. Posted by: Jeff at July 25, 2005 04:41 PM Post a comment |
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