After three long months of work and travel in Germany and its surrounding countries, I was ready to go home. Karissa and I buckled ourselves in to seats 38 A and B in what seemed would be a normal, unevental, sleep-filled flight.
Sitting across the aisle in seats 38 C,D and E was a German mother with her two daughters aged five and eight. The five year-old stood on her seat and frequently screamed or shouted at the top of her lungs. Poor man sitting in 38 F. I sighed, turned up the volume of my country music hits, and attempted to fall asleep. No sooner was I asleep when I heard the snack carts roll by. My stomach growled in anticipation as I anxiously waited for my mini bagels and ginger ale. They ran out of snacks less than five rows ahead of us leaving the back 1/3 of the plane hungry...and perhaps a little grouchy, too.
I sipped my ale and enjoyed my personal inflight movie, trying to ignore the family to my right. The older German girl kept dropping her toys, crayons, pillow, blanket in the aisle and looking at me expectantly to pick it up. Having just spent three months working in a preschool, this wasn't exactly interesting me. A little while later the girl puked. All over. Great.
I tucked the blanket above my nose and shut my eyes. Karissa excused herself to go to the bathroom. And then: DRAMA! Three flight attendants stood in the aisle speaking as harshly as permitted my stewardesses, "Your daughter is sick. She should not be on this plane. Did you know your daughter was this ill?"
The mother, big-eyed replied, "I took my daughter to the doctor. She said she was fine. Honest!"
The oldest crew member shot back, "Well we're going to have to write up a report. I need your information. Your daughter has a virus and now she could have affected everyone around her."
"I'm sorry. The doctor said she was fine."
"Well, she certainly isn't."
Karissa returned from the bathroom and at about that moment I sneezed. A huge (pardon me), snot-filled sneeze. I covered my mouth and nose and held my other hand under my chin. "Karisda, I deed kleednex,dow!" Karissa quickly opened my backpack and got the roll of toilet paper I had stashed there. I had had a cold for the past couple weeks, and was still recovering. A row back a lady flagged down one of the stewardesses, "Mame, I think that girl just got sick!" The stewardess turned to me,"Are you sick, Miss?"
"I just have a runny nose" I lied. I was worried that she'd write me up too!
"Would somebody in healthcare please go to the left side of row 38? We have an incident there."
Karissa and I stared at each other. So did all the people around us. We were the left side of row 38! We pretended to be asleep and I tried, with much difficulty, to appear healthy.
The rest of the flight went about the same. The bathroom was masking-taped off because of another accident the German girl had. Breakfast was served, but once again they ran out of all fruit juices. I asked for wine with my eggs and toast.
Once in Detroit, we were instructed to remain seated. Health authorities were meeting our plane. It was almost too unreal. The German family was escorted off the plane, and Karissa and I walked off with the last of the plane only to see extra bagles from the first snack strewn carelessly on the floor of the front rows. I wish I'd known they had extra! It would have made the flight so much better!
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2 comments:
lauralee...
you are a funny writer. I mean, you write funny stories. I am also looking for a job. and I have a job attached to my degree, but it still isn't easy.
blerg! Marburg virus.
You write lively, and well.
Wine for breakfast? Is that a European thing or a Lauralee on a plane thing?
I always drink at night. One time in the summer I had a cider in the afternoon, and I was down for the count. I was also kinda dehydrated and had been sweating all day.
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