Lisa and I returned to Brooklyn Monday morning via JetBlue. The flight was packed and served as yet another reminder of why I stopped flying for two years. There was nothing wrong with the flight, or JetBlue, it was just crowded, and long, and a red-eye. We had a cluster of Beavises and Buttheads in the row in front of us who absolute had to watch all four ESPN channels and comment on the games and matches in VERY LOUD VOICES because they were flying on a JET AEROPLANE, which, dude, you know is loud.
Behind us we had two older gentlemen who had to remark on everything. Oh, look, that person is grabbing a pillow,
and Interesting, you can see the strip from here
. The running commentary was punctuated by whacks to the backs of our seats, no matter how many times I turned around with mad-passenger-glare.
Needless to say, sleep didn't come easy on the flight. I used to be able to sleep pretty soundly on planes, no matter where I was sitting or the duration of the flight. When I was flying to Europe or Australia regularly, I'd frequently fall asleep while the plane was on the ground at the gate, and then wake up with a start when the plane actually managed to take off.
I spent the remainder of the day Monday dozing, except for a break to retrieve Frisket from Monstermutt where she'd spent the past four days and nights.
Last night we dined at Coco Pazzo with Lisa's family in celebration of her grandmother's birthday.
e.p.c. posted this at 16:55 GMT on 30-Mar-2004 .
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