Day 1 - The crash. A morning of hell and mixed drinks.
Well, what can I say. Today has been a most unusual day. After a light breakfast and an especially weak cup of coffee, I set out on my day, never suspecting what was to happen by nightfall. It all began, like most business trips, on an airplane. I had just made my fifth innuendo to the stewardess with the hidden piercing and was about to doze off into a Ben Affleck induced slumber when something happened. At first I thought the sharp nose dive may have been a result of the pilot vomiting violently fifteen minutes into Gigli. But to my eventual horror it turned out he'd had the fish. And died at the stick. This worried me, not only because we were plummeting to the earth at a speed that made a nearby Falcon do a double-take, but because I too had endured the fish. I found it a little dry.
I called the stewardess so as to get an asprin, and maybe a pillow, but she seemed preoccupied with clinging onto another stewardess and screaming for some deity's assistance. I must confess I found this sight to be a bit of a turn on.
Just a side note, for anyone studying the effects of alcohol during a fast, steep plummet, a couple of glasses of wine and/or beer makes for a much more subdued and accepting descent. Even at the prospect of, almost, certain death.
I nudged the guy sitting next to me and indicated in the direction of the embracing women. He seemed to ignore me, staring straight ahead, whispering what sounded like a prayer. I quickly questioned my decision to be a Taoist, then realised I was the only calm person onboard. I mean this guys shoulders were all tensed up, the veins in his neck were protruding like snakes slithering under his skin. I thought he was going to give himself a stroke. At that moment my head was jolted forward then back and I decided there and then, I needed that pillow.
So I got up and clumsily made my way towards the back of the plane, which was a bit of a climb, all the while looking for a linen cabinet of some sort. The look on most of the passengers faces were the same throughout, a mix of fear and disbelief. I tried to ask a steward as he fell past me where I might find a pillow. But he was so self absorbed he just ignored me. As I approached the rear of the plane I almost lost my hold as the cabin jerked from side to side. I managed to prop myself up on the inside of a toilet cubicle. Then, triumph, I found a pillow cupboard. Actually it found me. A sharp dip and a jolt to the side and a door flung open, showering me in pillows. So I did the noble thing, I closed the door to the cubicle and nestled into a pile of pillows.
When I woke up I felt much more sober, and spent the first few moments trying to piece together my situation. What was with all the pillows? And why is the room on it's side? I clambered out the door and into the night. What? I stood on what looked like a beach. I turned and saw the small remains of the rear of a plane. The reality started to sink in as the memories started flooding back. Fear gripped me as it dawned on me the plane had crashed and my luggage was nowhere to be seen. I walked to the top of the beach, leant against a palm tree and threw up. Fucking fish!
I'm starting to feel better now but it's too dark to do anything. I think I'll go back to the toilet for a snooze then search for my bags in the morning.
I called the stewardess so as to get an asprin, and maybe a pillow, but she seemed preoccupied with clinging onto another stewardess and screaming for some deity's assistance. I must confess I found this sight to be a bit of a turn on.
Just a side note, for anyone studying the effects of alcohol during a fast, steep plummet, a couple of glasses of wine and/or beer makes for a much more subdued and accepting descent. Even at the prospect of, almost, certain death.
I nudged the guy sitting next to me and indicated in the direction of the embracing women. He seemed to ignore me, staring straight ahead, whispering what sounded like a prayer. I quickly questioned my decision to be a Taoist, then realised I was the only calm person onboard. I mean this guys shoulders were all tensed up, the veins in his neck were protruding like snakes slithering under his skin. I thought he was going to give himself a stroke. At that moment my head was jolted forward then back and I decided there and then, I needed that pillow.
So I got up and clumsily made my way towards the back of the plane, which was a bit of a climb, all the while looking for a linen cabinet of some sort. The look on most of the passengers faces were the same throughout, a mix of fear and disbelief. I tried to ask a steward as he fell past me where I might find a pillow. But he was so self absorbed he just ignored me. As I approached the rear of the plane I almost lost my hold as the cabin jerked from side to side. I managed to prop myself up on the inside of a toilet cubicle. Then, triumph, I found a pillow cupboard. Actually it found me. A sharp dip and a jolt to the side and a door flung open, showering me in pillows. So I did the noble thing, I closed the door to the cubicle and nestled into a pile of pillows.
When I woke up I felt much more sober, and spent the first few moments trying to piece together my situation. What was with all the pillows? And why is the room on it's side? I clambered out the door and into the night. What? I stood on what looked like a beach. I turned and saw the small remains of the rear of a plane. The reality started to sink in as the memories started flooding back. Fear gripped me as it dawned on me the plane had crashed and my luggage was nowhere to be seen. I walked to the top of the beach, leant against a palm tree and threw up. Fucking fish!
I'm starting to feel better now but it's too dark to do anything. I think I'll go back to the toilet for a snooze then search for my bags in the morning.
posted by JuanNhill at
10:15 PM
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