Raw, but c*nsored blabbing and blogging of a young journalista
and local news producer in Southern New England.
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Friday, March 05, 2004

WHY THE DAY AFTER SWEEPS?

Lengthy...

It just trusted to luck. WHY did it have to happen the day after sweeps? Oh, well. It was a nightmare and it is over.

So I rush out of work and finish packing and get on planes for, what, seven hours? The first leg was fabulous, albeit short, and empty of televisual entertainment. The second leg I felt so sorry for the flight attendants. Before we got off the ground I heard one complaining to the other the plane had not been properly filled with food. (One benefit of sitting in the aisle seat of the very very very last row of the plane.) They were short on the "buy-on-board" options and had no free snacks at all. It appeared someone in Sky Catering (?) had screwed up. I was thanking my lucky stars I had gotten (?overpriced?) pizza at the airport... half of which was now hiding in my backpack... not to mention the breakfast bar and granola bar that I'd put there too.

It was either, be angry at the flight attendants ("I SPENT HOW MUCH ON THIS PLANE TICKET AND NOW YOU'RE GOING TO MAKE ME SPEND $10 TO EAT SOMETHING I DON'T EVEN THINK I'LL LIKE?") [i.e. a pork sandwich or salmon salad] or feel sorry for a fellow worker who's been dealt a sh*tty hand. I'd had a bad day at work too and I almost wanted to say something. Didn't.

And what's more, get this. The lady in the middle seat in my row was carrying BONE MARROW to a cancer center in Seattle. She had just barely made it onto the flight (apparently the middle seat in the very last row of the plane was the very last seat available on the plane). Now that's a story! I should have asked her the questions I was thinking of. How long does bone marrow keep in a little cooler like that? Do you do this often? She had a name tag and pantsuit that kind of made her look like a nurse. I find it fascinating.

And just as I was waking up from the last hour of the flight when I took a nap, she was asking an attendant if she could ask people to let her off first. One attendant told her at first they'd make an announcement and couldn't promise that people wouldn't block the aisle as the doors opened. (She asked me too if I would let her out, and why would I have a problem with that?)

It's all in a day's work for the friendly skies.

And now I'm in Seattle and I can't believe it. Patrick can't either. All part of trying to make my life more exciting, I guess.

Labels: Originally published

... Scribbled by Bill T ... 3/05/2004 11:38:00 AM ... Email this entry ...
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