Flight

This was all written down in a spiral notebook, so that's why it's in the present-tense.

Saturday, December 11, 2010

Mom, Dad, Trevor and Philip brought me to the airport in Austin at 12:10pm. My first flight – the flight to Dallas – was a breeze. We literally lifted off and touched down 40 minutes later. At DFW I took a tram to Gate D and waited for about an hour to load the plane for Frankfurt. My seat was 34F, two seats over from the aisle.

I was fantasizing about ending up sitting next to some hot guy who would teach me German the entire 10 hours.

Instead I was seated directly in front of a screaming baby. And I’m mean f***ing my-god-why-have-you-forsaken-me kind of screaming baby.

Of course.

I waited for another half an hour or so for the plane to be loaded. Everyone was awkwardly looking around, trying not to make eye contact because we were all thinking the same thing. Ten hours with this child. Help meeee….

Our flight ended up being delayed because, as it turns out, the child was injured. The family decided to leave the flight and they had to find their luggage amongst the thousands of other duffel bags, backpacks, and who-knows-what in the cargo hold. The only way I knew this was from eavesdropping on a flight attendant. Something about the kid being “swollen.” I immediately felt guilty about wanting it to shut up, and felt even worse when I realized how relieved I was I wouldn’t have to hear it anymore. I really do hope they are all OK...