Sitting in the lap of economy
Right now I am in Hong Kong's airport. I am 4 hours in to an 8 hour layover. It was either spend 8 hours in Hong Kong or 8 hours in Bangkok airport. No contest. Anyway, this comes to you courtesy of a free Internet station at gate 24. I cannot use my own notbook, so no pics to upload (yet).
Ah, economy class. I feared it...and for good reason. The seat was small for my expanded size. However, strangely, after an hour or so my body (and psyche) adjusted to that. THAT wasn't the problem.
An old crusty New York lawyer I knew whose only chance to make it to an important function on time was to take the subway said "I've not taken the subway in 25 years!" His secretary told him "Oh, the subway isn't so bad." To which he replied "I don't have any problems utilizing a public conveyence...it's the public I detest." I bet he had it easier that day than I just did.
Let's start of by mentioning that I booked early and got an aisle seat. So two guys want to sit together and ask me to trade my aisle seat for a center seat. I smile and tell them no. The one who asked looked at me in amazement...how could I be so rude as to refuse him? The problem, of course, now I have to sit next to one of these clowns and suffer 14 hours of seat neighbor retribution. Boy, he let me have it. To wit:
- Took his shoes and socks off. Before getting to the airport, I am sure he was sticking he feet up his water buffalo's ass as some sort of goodbye ritual. He then put his feet up on the back of the seat in front of him.
- Worked his leg UNDER MY SEAT, which was already small from a seat brace.
- Spilled his seafood cocktail sauce on his pillow (peasant), then dropped his soaked pillow on my pants.
Ok, bad enough? Now comes the final indignity. You may have guessed it already...
- He gets up out of he seat to go to the bathroom...but...it seems like he couldn't be bothered to wait UNTIL he got to the bathroom. Yes, he had been passing the most noxious gas into his seatcushion, trapping it there with his doubleknit polyester pants. When he stood up, it was like someone opened an old crypt and the funk of forty thousand years attacked with all the power of entropy. To give you an idea, the lady ACROSS the aisle from me covered he nose and looked like she was going to throw up.
All this, of course, is due to my being a racist. When I was in line in San Francisco, I was waiting behind two Indian guys who really, REALLY smelled like Indian food. Like they just got off their jobs in the kitchen of some restaurant and didn't change clothes on the way to the airport. So I made a little prayer..."Dear Lord...please don't put me next to one of those stinky Indian guys!" You can say my prayers were answered...and that I got what I deserved. My next prayer I'll either be less racist or more specific.
I am going to go rent one of those mini rooms and take a shower and read for a bit. I brought some travel guides and a bio of Sam Cooke. I'll get the pics uploaded when I can, although so far there's nothing interesting. Bangkok should change that.
Note: take off your hat when going through security at HKG airport. It's a respect thing. I've done it twice. The first time I thought they were stupid...the second time I thought I was stupid (for forgetting).
Ah, economy class. I feared it...and for good reason. The seat was small for my expanded size. However, strangely, after an hour or so my body (and psyche) adjusted to that. THAT wasn't the problem.
An old crusty New York lawyer I knew whose only chance to make it to an important function on time was to take the subway said "I've not taken the subway in 25 years!" His secretary told him "Oh, the subway isn't so bad." To which he replied "I don't have any problems utilizing a public conveyence...it's the public I detest." I bet he had it easier that day than I just did.
Let's start of by mentioning that I booked early and got an aisle seat. So two guys want to sit together and ask me to trade my aisle seat for a center seat. I smile and tell them no. The one who asked looked at me in amazement...how could I be so rude as to refuse him? The problem, of course, now I have to sit next to one of these clowns and suffer 14 hours of seat neighbor retribution. Boy, he let me have it. To wit:
- Took his shoes and socks off. Before getting to the airport, I am sure he was sticking he feet up his water buffalo's ass as some sort of goodbye ritual. He then put his feet up on the back of the seat in front of him.
- Worked his leg UNDER MY SEAT, which was already small from a seat brace.
- Spilled his seafood cocktail sauce on his pillow (peasant), then dropped his soaked pillow on my pants.
Ok, bad enough? Now comes the final indignity. You may have guessed it already...
- He gets up out of he seat to go to the bathroom...but...it seems like he couldn't be bothered to wait UNTIL he got to the bathroom. Yes, he had been passing the most noxious gas into his seatcushion, trapping it there with his doubleknit polyester pants. When he stood up, it was like someone opened an old crypt and the funk of forty thousand years attacked with all the power of entropy. To give you an idea, the lady ACROSS the aisle from me covered he nose and looked like she was going to throw up.
All this, of course, is due to my being a racist. When I was in line in San Francisco, I was waiting behind two Indian guys who really, REALLY smelled like Indian food. Like they just got off their jobs in the kitchen of some restaurant and didn't change clothes on the way to the airport. So I made a little prayer..."Dear Lord...please don't put me next to one of those stinky Indian guys!" You can say my prayers were answered...and that I got what I deserved. My next prayer I'll either be less racist or more specific.
I am going to go rent one of those mini rooms and take a shower and read for a bit. I brought some travel guides and a bio of Sam Cooke. I'll get the pics uploaded when I can, although so far there's nothing interesting. Bangkok should change that.
Note: take off your hat when going through security at HKG airport. It's a respect thing. I've done it twice. The first time I thought they were stupid...the second time I thought I was stupid (for forgetting).
posted by Free Buffet at 6:40 PM
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