Cat Lady's Friends and Family

School has started. This means the communicable diseases have begun to flow freely. So while I lay in bed last night being kept awake by my own bodily fluids, I got to thinking about our recent travelling experiences. What a short strange trip it was.

 

Before I noted Cat Lady’s presence on the plane to LA, I had to witness a German gentleman use his very, very loose grasp of the English language to make a request of a flight attendant. I would have skipped the show, but I had the window seat on the other side of his hulking frame, and he wasn’t the least bit interested in where I wanted to plant my ass. He was holding up a small, black nylon case for the airline attendant to see. He was patting it franticly with his free hand while repeating, “Medicine! Medicine! Medicine!”  Which lead to an exchange something like: “Medicine?” “Yes! Medicine!” “Yes?” “Yes!” “Medicine.” “Yes! Medicine!” “Yes, medicine.” “Yes!” “What can I do for your medicine?” “Medicine! Yes! Cold!” “Cold?” “Yes! Cold!” “Medicine cold?” “Yes! Medicine cold!” “Can I get you some ice?” “Yes! Ice” “I’ll go get you some ice” “No! No ice!” “No ice?” “No ice! DRY ice!” “Dry ice?” “Yes! Dry ice!!” “You want DRY ice?” “Yes! DRY ice!” At which point the dude handed over a pouch that looked like an empty ice cream sandwich wrapper with the words dry ice printed all over it in a dozen different languages. And much to my surprise, the attendant rushed off, then returned with the wrapper steaming full of dry ice. And I got to fill my seat.

 

Once seated, I watched the full, uncut version of The Cat Lady Saga described in my last blog entry. The airplane door had barely been slammed on Cat Lady’s ass when the next flight attendant exchange began in the seats immediately behind me. “Ma’am! Ma’am! Are you ok? Ma’am, are you ill? Ma’am, do you have any medical conditions? Do you need a doctor? MA’AM” I peeked behind me. A woman was completely slouched forward, the upper regions of her torso resting on the back of my seat. Her head was bent so awkwardly sideways that she was quite clearly either unconscious or dead.  I instantly understood the flight attendant’s concern. Somehow the woman managed to dig deep into her mental and physical juju and pull herself together just enough to unclench one hand. The flight attendant quickly snatched up the contents of that hand and read the label on the prescription bottle. “Sleeping pills. Ma’am, did you take a sleeping pill? MA’AM! DID YOU TAKE A SLEEPING PILL???” The woman managed a slight nod. The attendant stuff the pills in the lady’s pocket, tightened her seat belt, then left the woman to puke on her shoes or whatever.

 

We hadn’t yet been pushed back from the gate. I’d watched as one passenger was presented a potentially dangerous substance, as one unknowing cat had its very existence placed in peril, and as one woman was left alone to manage her own possible drug overdose. 15 minutes later, we were airborne, and our three year old was tired of being confined to her seat.

 

On the return flight, my wife and I took the aisle seats so we could easy access our kids seated across the way. When we stood up to allow a woman to climb into the window seat, we were more than a little surprised to notice she was carrying a dog. In fact my wife looked at me and silently yet clearly mouthed the words “no fucking way”. As soon as we were sitting I asked, “has your dog flown before”. “A bunch of times was her reply”. I had a dozen more questions about pet carriers and allergies and stuff, but my wife’s flabbergastedness was contagious. I couldn’t speak. So we basically sat there staring until the woman felt so uncomfortable that she had to talk. Turns out this lady knew the airline’s pet policies and was fully prepared to implement them as necessary. So other than shocking the shit out of us, the dog did not affect our flight.

 

Speaking of shocking shit, when our pilot aggressively banked the plane around Three Mile Island and brought us within landing distance of our home runway, I looked out the window. I noticed blinking lights right away. Those lights were affixed to a variety of ambulances and fire apparatus. A lot of them. Rough guess, 50 or more vehicles were congregated next to the runway in all their lighted glory. My first thought was of the police car chase near the end of the Blues Brothers. My second thought was oh fuck. Obviously all those emergency personnel were there because a plane was about to crash. We were in a plane. My anus puckered. Then the plane’s wheels touched down and I regained control of my digestive tract. A recording was being played inside the terminal asking travelers not to be alarmed by the training exercises underway outside. It would have been nice of the pilot to relay that message during our approach.  I could have better controlled the byproduct of my then rolling gut if he had.

 

So as I lay awake last night choking on my own phlegm, I realized after all that, I’m very happy to be home.