So I just came back from Queensland for work. Yes, you hate me with the fiery envy of a thousand suns. I wouldn’t bother, really. But if you must.
For the flight back I scored a window seat, and an empty seat beside me. I began my secret gloating, as did the woman on the aisle seat. Not that we made eye contact – however, I knew she knew, and she knew I knew. The empty seat between us had brought us together. However, as always, it came to an abrupt end about 3 minutes before takeoff, as a guy hastily pushed his way between us, complete with bulky backpack and flailing Doc boots. Cue abrupt end to gloating, replaced with quiet contemplation of the upcoming 2 hours wedged directly next to another human being. The Dance of the Elbows began, complete with “sorry” – “no, excuse me” … and I remembered why flying is always more fun in expectation than reality. Then again, I bet I had a better time than the Yorkshire Terrier I saw being loaded into the cargo hold. Although it looked slightly alarmed at travelling up a conveyor belt into an aeroplane hold, I think it was most upset about being in a cat cage. Dogs have feelings too. Even little dogs.
