The Man in 9D

The Man in 9D

This blog is brought to you from high above the country somewhere. I’m headed east for the holidays, and I have hit upon another little discussed pick-up place: the cross country airplane ride.

I don’t know why I wasn’t better prepared.

I blame the new security restrictions. I was confused about whether or not my lipstick would still be considered a weapon, so I just put it in a clear plastic bag and stuffed it deep inside my computer case. Everyone knows that just a little lipstick makes everything better (and by everyone, I mean people acting like Norma Desmond calling for her close-up). Repo man comes to the door—lipstick. It just makes the experience fresher somehow ;) About to be evicted—no worries, as long as you can grab that tube of “breakfast in bed”. Seriously, I’m beginning to think it should be treated as cosmetic armor. So, if you see me whip that tube out and apply generously—look out ladies, I’m going in.

Which should in part explain why I can’t find mine, Fate is laughing, again. I wasn’t prepared to be called into battle hurtling thousands of feet in the air. My armor is buried beneath my iPOD recharger, my cell phone recharger, my blackberry recharger and the computer power cord.

(On a side note, please, someone come up with a universal recharger—I’m sick of carrying around the entire contents of radio shack every time I go somewhere. I’ll be forever grateful. Thanks!)

Anyway, the reason I need full battle dress? The man in 9D. He’s not that far away though, so I am surreptitiously observing him. In fact, it is sort of difficult to type this because if I turn in the direction where I actually have room to type and see the screen, he’d be able to see the screen. And typing straight is becoming a bit of a challenge because the woman in front of me has decided to nap in my lap. FREAKIN’ reclining seats. One of next year’s resolutions will have to be “learn how to type with breasts” since that’s the only way it is going to be possible on these flights.

(How is it that they recline a fraction of an inch, and yet the person in front of me always ends up on top of me? I’m not that big. What does a full grown person do? But I digress.)

I know—you are screaming something along the lines of “I say, now would be a strapping good time to strike up a conversation regarding political risk and currency convertibility issues, or something equally beguiling”.

True.

But he appears to be asleep. What exactly is the protocol here? Do I subtly reach diagonally and across a row or two and nudge him? What’s the rule? I do have a business card on me. But it’s a tad tricky to get it to him with him snuggled into his sweatshirt and facing the other direction. You know, unless I drop it on him. You’re right… too subtle. Could fall to the cabin floor when he awakens.

Possibilities for a skilled social person—endless. Possibilities for me—maybe I’ll smile when we get up to deplane.

Next time, I’ll know better. Lipstick on for the return flight. Definitely.

Kate


P.S. Because I know you will kill me if I don’t tell you what happened—I did end up talking to 9D. If by talking you mean an awkward “Hi!” yelled just a touch too loud in the midst of a ton of people trying to get their carry-ons and off the plane. It wasn’t a scream exactly and not completely frightening, but it did get his attention. And the attention of pretty much everyone around him. Well done, me. But he did say “Hi” back.

Progress.