81

81

Sunday. It’s still raining. I slept terribly because I was hot and cold all the time. Without blanket I froze, with blanket I sweated. I think I have fever again. I look awful, red cheeks and black circles around my eyes. Neck and back hurt. I better be fine tomorrow because the kids will be here. Moms are not allowed to be sick.
I just heard from the man that my kids are fine. They’ll stay fine until the Christmas Holidays… That’s the time when they get sick. Not before, not after.

I have no idea how the mind works. Why in heaven some memories come back out of the blue and stay in your head the whole day? What’s the message behind it?
This is what happened yesterday. First a bit of introduction or you won’t understand a thing.

In the early 90’s in my country (I’m not sure if that happened anywhere else), there was a trend among people who were having a midlife crisis. If you happened to ask them ‘How old are you?’ they would not answer forty five. They would say instead: four-five. That always made me a bit anxious. I thought it was lame. I remember once I asked a guy in my class: “How old are you?” “Two-eight”. For the love of Pete!! The sucker was only 28 and he was already splitting the numbers???
Another thing that got to my nerves was people talking about themselves in third person, very popular at the time too.

It was 1998 or 1999. I was already living in Cowshitland. That day I was waiting at the airport in Madrid for my connecting flight to go visit my parents. It was a four hours wait and I was near the boarding gate reading. At one point, a group of men in their 40’s stood a few meters away from me. They were 3 or 4, I don’t remember because I couldn’t stop watching one of them with a green sweater. He was the shortest and thinnest. Almost insignificant if you compared with the others. But he had one thing that the others didn’t have. He was LOUD. I stopped reading and started listening to their conversation. Or better said, to him shouting. And then I would make up the others part. I could only think: “What an ass, he’s full of himself”. I kept shaking my head, I couldn’t believe that such specimens existed.
Time to board. Since I was near the gate, I was one of the first ones. I had chosen a window seat because I’m terrified of flying and I knew I wasn’t going to stand up to go to the toilet the entire 12 hours and 50 minutes of flight. As I was sitting there, I started looking at the people passing by and hoping that the person sitting next to me, was a hot guy. So in my head I was: “Keep walking” “Please stop and sit here” “Go, go far” and things like that… You know, boredom.
The plane was almost full and no one sitting next to me. “Yay!! Maybe I can sleep tonight”. Soon after that nice thought, I see a green sweater coming my direction, stopping, checking the number seat, excusing himself to the person who was sitting on the aisle seat and sitting next to me. WTF!! How are the odds???
“23B? That’s me. Hello!” “Hi”. Why? Why? Why?
Time to take off. I opened my backpack and took my little travel bag. My travel bag has a small front pocket. Inside the pocket I have medals of Saint Christopher (patron of travelers) and Loreto Virgin (patron of air forces).

IMG_8449

So I positioned myself in take off mode. That is: saints in left hand and right hand holding the arm rest like if my life depended on it. Clenched eyes and teeth.
Suddenly, I felt the hand of green sweater man on my hand and he was whispering in my ear: “Don’t be afraid. I’m here”. I almost choked. I opened my eyes widely and though “How the fuck he dares!?!”. You already know that I have issues with not consented physical touching.
Before I could even complain or remove my hand, he went on: “You see, I’m a pilot”. In my head: “sure, of your paper planes”. Those comments I made to myself, made me smile. That was probably misleading. He went on: “Now the pilot will blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah…” When I realized, the ‘fasten your seat belts sign’ was turned off. But he never let go of my hand or stop talking. I was all the time: “Really?” “Aha” “Oh yes” “I can imagine”.
Then I think he understood that I wasn’t going to comment much so he started asking questions. “What’s your name? I’m ….” “Are you going home? I was in Madrid because as I said before, I’m a pilot and there is a chance we are going to create this new airline blah blah blah blah…..” “How old are you? If you don’t mind me asking? I’m four-zero”. In my head “of course you are, I wouldn’t have expected differently”. My eyes staring at the monitor: Time to destination 11h 48m. It’s going to be A LONG flight.

I want to be clear on one thing. I LOVE TALKING. I can talk with anyone, anytime, anywhere. My sister says that I can even talk to rocks and get them to answer me. But I just couldn’t do it with this guy.

And the cherry on top came: “Because you know, Sanguinetti here noticed you checking him out at the airport”. Not only he was talking about himself in third person, but he was using his last name. In my head: “Where the fuck is the EJECT button when you need it???”

So yesterday, Sanguinetti was the entire day in my head. What a waste of thoughts!!

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~ by DotedOn on November 16, 2014.

18 Responses to “81”

  1. Reblogged this on Survivors Blog Here.

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  2. That was a nightmare!!! I was flying my father’s ashes up North and I had a woman next to me who wanted to talk. I too love conversation, just not on this flight. So I “introduced” her to my Dad (his urn). She didn’t say two words after that….. πŸ˜‰

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I can’t stand people who refer to themselves in the 3rd person. I thought it was only for self absorbed athletes and movie stars. πŸ˜€ I hope that you feel better soon!!!

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  4. I used to fly a lot and so I was used to every possible tragedy that could happen to me. Now, I would rather take a beating than get on a plane. If you meet too many Sanguinetti’s in life, you lose hope for humanity. Intrusive thoughts are not good but enough chocolate and wine will fix that. πŸ™‚

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  5. I remember a flight where I was sick as a dog and, there was a huge layover. I spent $11 on pepto-bismol and was just hoping I wouldn’t have an accident on the plane. A guy sat next to me and made it obvious that he wanted to “get to know me”. I didn’t want to throw up mid-flight but if I had, I would have been okay with it landing in his lap!

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  6. Lol. Even when you’re sick you have funny stories πŸ˜€

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  7. Flight Loving Twin P
    I like the eject comment, that is great. I’ve talked in third person sometimes while blogging and don’t even know why. I’ve never done it before but it came out in a few post. Maybe I thought I was extra special those days?
    Loved to Fly before 9/11 Twin M

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  8. […] to me on the plane, is a hot guy. And if I’m not that lucky, I hope it’s not another Sanguinetti or someone who forgot to shower. Or someone sick. Or someone who falls asleep on my shoulder. Now […]

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