Airplane Antics

I'm back in the US now and I promise to write about Egypt once I temporarily reclaim a letter I wrote in which I detailed many of my thoughts on the country. Until then, I'll tide you all over with a quick account of the highlights of my plane ride from Paris back to Detroit last Saturday.

Two amusing things that happened on the flight that I thought I'd share with you all. The first involved a French woman who spoke very little English, a stewardess who spoke absolutely no French. Excessive pantomiming ensued. At first it began as simple miscommunications concerning the type of food they wanted, but later in the journey, the French woman took out a cigarette and proceeded to waggle it in the corner of her mouth for a few minutes, the rolled tobacco leaves just waiting to be lit. I felt a sinking in my stomach, awaiting what would surely be a terribly embarrassing exchange between this oblivious Frenchie and the stewardess.

Eventually the stewardess returned to the row with her snack cart, and as she started down the aisle, the flight attendant on the other side of the plane said to her in a very loud whisper, "Jane," (or whatever her name was) "meet me in the galley!" Clearly the other one had spotted the contraband first and now they had to discuss their strategy for addressing the situation. The first stewardess came back out and said to the French woman, "Hey, you know you can't smoke that in here, right? Nooooo... smooooking... Understand?" She then she attempted to communicate the concept of a no-smoking sign through her poorly cultivated charades skills, although I'm not sure why she bothered, since there was a nicely illuminated version, directly over every single seat, readily available for pointing at. Then there was some sort of incoherent spouting from the French woman, but apparently the stewardess is really good at understanding very broken English, since she then said to her fellow attendant, in a nice loud voice so everyone could hear, "Oh, it's not a real cigarette, it's just rubber." Then she turned back to the French woman. "Okay, remember, you can't smoke in here. People like you freak us flight attendants out." I'm pretty sure the French woman - who, by the way, had a voice a little bit like ET - didn't understand anything that was said, since her only reply was a chuckle that consisted mostly of the sound of phlegm loosening from the back of her throat, accented with a sibilant whistle of air being forced through the gap between her front teeth. The "fake" (I couldn't confirm it, and wasn't too convinced of the veracity of the story) cigarette continued to waggle, taunting the flight crew, as if to say, "Zo vhat if she lights me? De vorld is full of merde! C'est la vie!"

The other notable item from the flight was the American couple who sat directly in front of me. I think they were just married and were returning from their honeymoon in Paris (what a wretched place to spend one's honeymoon...). They spent most of the flight making out, and not even discreetly or quietly. No, these were big sloppy kisses, with their faces positioned right at the crack between the seats, so every time I looked up, I witnessed two tongues stabbing at each other like Olympic fencers. I'm pretty sure the guy won the bout, probably due to sheer overwhelming strength, but the woman certainly made a valiant effort, parrying and counter thrusting the whole time. At one point, they must have realized that they should save such activities for a more appropriate venue; therefore they adjourned to the lavatory. As was already evidenced, subtlety was clearly not a course taught in either of their primary schools, since they giggled the whole way to the loo, and simultaneously entered in a rather less than graceful manner. I discovered was not the only person to witness the antics (how could I be?), since I doubt that the three of the flight attendants who suddenly took up a vigil outside the lavatory door had all spontaneously decided that they really needed to pee just that second. When the pair once again emerged, it was a walk of utter shame that greeted them. The congregation of attendants outside the door had drawn most peoples' attention, so as they returned to their seats, it must have dawned upon them that that everyone on the plane, or at least in their section, now knew that they had just shacked up in one of the filthiest, most disgusting locales imaginable. How many people have puked in that little closet? How many morbidly obese men have relieved themselves of a terrible case of the traveler's trots in there? How many other people have had sex on that same wash basin counter top? Eww...

If you happen to be on a diet, I hope I've done my part to keep you from eating.