Flying
It had been an exhausting and stressful trip. Pam was not an easy person to travel with,
always disorganized and addled, losing papers, tickets, her wallet frequently and
with a meltdown each time. Finally, we
got on the plane and I looked forward to a few hours of peace and quiet till we
arrived at our destination in the Dominican Republic. We were flying down with the whole family
for my son’s wedding and while I was excited I was also anxious because there
was a lot of tension in my family and also because of the ongoing tension and
drama of my relationship with Pam. I
prayed nothing would go wrong on the flight.
My prayers, however, went unanswered. There was severe turbulence a few times
which sent me over the edge in panic, although I tried not to show it because
it would set Pam off. I gripped my seat,
white-knuckled and tried to comfort myself with the knowledge that if the plane
went down at least my whole family was with me. Pam kept muttering “we’re gonna die, I just
know it!” which did not help matters.
Eventually, the turbulence ended and they were able to serve us
dinner. We ordered the lasagna and Pam
got her glass of red wine. The food was
nothing to write home about but it was edible.
I was desperate for the bathroom and since I had the window seat Pam had
to stand up holding her plate of food so that I could get by, the look on her
face telling me what she thought of me waiting till we had our food. But there was no room in the aisle to get to
the bathroom while they were serving. I
really hated flying.
As I inched past her and headed down the aisle I heard Pam
sneeze. And then curse. I didn’t want to turn around because I had a
feeling about what just happened. But I
did turn around and slapped my hand over my mouth to keep from bursting out
laughing. There was Pam, splattered head
to toe in tomato sauce and lasagna, looking furious. Her sneeze had coincided with a slight lurch
of the plane and her plate had flown up into her face. I had to make a decision to come to her
rescue or go tend to my increasingly desperate need for the toilet. I chose the latter and asked a flight
attendant to help Pam. Sitting on the
toilet I laughed till my sides hurt.
The look on her face! That poor
woman! Everything happened to her.
Once I had myself under control I went back to our seats and
Pam wasn’t there. I figured she had gone
to the other bathroom to clean up. It
was obvious we could not sit in our tomato sauce covered seats so the flight
attendant showed me another place for me to sit. Pam came back from the bathroom, her clothes
badly stained and her mood thunderous.
The rest of the flight passed in silence and without incident.
We landed and were headed through customs when Pam realized
she didn’t have her passport. She had a
meltdown right there in the airport. It
was the last straw. I suggested it
might still be on the plane so we had to find someone and ask them if we could
go back on the plane and look for it.
Trying to explain this to someone who didn’t speak English was an ordeal
in itself. They could not understand
why these two women, one in hysterics, wanted to get back on the plane. At last we made ourselves understood and one
of the staff went back on the plane and found her passport. We were very lucky.
The rest of our trip was without incident and we actually
had a very good time. I refused to
travel with Pam ever again, it was way too stressful and I wasn’t much of a
traveller anyway. We ended our relationship
shortly after that. But I still get a
chuckle when I think of her standing there with her dinner all over the place.
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