el aeroplano primo

Thursday, February 3

I was at the wrong gate.  My ticket clearly said H6,. but it be came apparent to me when my phone announced that the flight was boarding that the boarding pass did not match the airline's plans.

By the time i arrived at K16, the last group number was just about seated and having been assigned to seat 13A, my compatriots in row 13 had assumed the seat was to be vacant, and had appropriated it.  

These were no small hombres.  i feared they would need the winch to extricate them from the narrow  crevice that comprised row 13.  

My tardiness resulted not only in the embarrassing groans of two half masked men, but also a lack of overhead space into which to place my rucksack.  Alas, under the seat in front of mine i shoved it, leaving scarcely 10" for the placement of my feet.  

Deicing the plane, which Flightaware indicated had been at this gate for 16 hours, pushed the departure to 20 minutes past the assigned time.  

I could not convince the air vent over my head 🗣️ release any air despite my attempts to turn it in every direction. Within the first 15 minutes in the air, my long-covid nose was innundated with the stench of vomit.  of course every thing that doesn't smell like dead fish smells of vomit to me, but i tried anyway to wrap my face in the huge kerchief id brought for this exact situation.  i'd dosed the cloth with essential oils to mask whatever wafted by.  i tied it behind my head and over my NIOSH approved N95 mask creating, or so i'd planned, a scented barrier between me and whatever else floated by my face.  It worked remarkably well.  not only was the tuna scented oil more pleasant than that of my neighbor, it offered the added benefit of reducing the oxygen to my brain putting me almost instantly to sleep.  

I awoke when GreyCoat Hombre immediately to my right stood and made clear that he needed to find the restroom.  His mask covering only his upper lip, his nose hung over it like a dangling participle.  DressShirt Hombre to his right exuded a creaking sigh as he stood and extricated himself into th aisle so GCH could remove himself and head toward the back of the plane.  And since je was standing, DSH decided to saunter to the head in first class.

I took advantage of the vacant space to pull my water bottle out from beside me.  I carefully lowered my mask as my left hand fumbled to lift the lid. just as i opened my mouth to sip from the silicone straw, a fountain of water arose from said straw and I gagged on the unexpected stream that not only filled my mouth, but spewed a full 18 inches above my head.  Pierdo las palabras.   el primo!  

Jerry can quote me on that