I paid the good ol' Sunshine State (Florida) a visit last week. Unfortunately, I didn't get to bask in the sun in Miami or discover an oceanic ecosystem in Key West. I was, of course, there for work and by there, I mean Orlando. I've got nothing against Orlando, in fact, the weather was beautiful, my bed at the Double Tree rivaled my favorites - Westin and W, and I managed to find a great place to get a Vietnamese mani/pedi.* My hotel was located at the entrance of Universal Studios so I filled my spare time with strolls through Universal City Walk, Downtown Disney and a leisurely jog through the beautiful grounds of a neighboring Italian Villa style resort. It was pretty low key, and I was even worried that I might not have an entertaining anecdote to share.
I closed my exhibit around noon on Saturday and made my way to the airport. As I sat at my gate, I was not too thrilled to be entering the confinement of an airplane with the dozens of rowdy rug-rats donning Crocs and Mickey ears. It turned out that the rambunctious kiddies were the least of my worries.
I nestled into my usual window seat and prayed that I would be blessed with good seat neighbors. That, I was granted. Within 5 minutes, two 30 something women made their way down the aisle laughing at their own sarcastic quips. They settled in and we found the perfect level of acquaintance - friendly, but not overly talkative. It turned out that they had been in Orlando for work as well and we bonded over our annoyance with the surrounding whines, cries, giggles and shrieks. "Damn you Disney World!" I said, and we all laughed. Soon enough I had my earplugs in and had found my way back to the narrative of an autistic adolescent's murder mystery (The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time). I looked up to see my two quirky neighbors huddled forward, talking secretively to the woman in the seat in front of them. My curiosity got the better of me as I ripped out my earplugs, straining to eavesdrop.
"Hey, if there's gossip, then I wanna know about it," I said.
My new friends giggled and let me in.
"That guy over there (she pointed across the aisle to the guy sitting by the window) is crazy! He's demanding to be moved to first class, hassling the flight attendant and the couple sitting next to him and I think he's coming on to that poor old woman!!"
I strained to see the man sitting in the opposite window seat, but I couldn't manage while maintaining at least some level of discretion. I could however, see the older man in the aisle seat, looking ahead as if to be fighting painful concern. I watched in anxious anticipation as I received updates from the girls next to me. We had worked out a game of telephone with all the neighboring passengers who seemed to all be on pins and needles as well. The nut job had, in fact, demanded to be moved to first class (there wasn't first class on this particular flight) and then had cuddled up to the 80 something year old woman sitting next to him, caressing her arm and apologizing for his behavior because he was "a pretty crazy man who does pretty crazy things sometimes." When the flight attendants came around to offer snack boxes, I saw money flying and arms waving from across the plane as the nut job insisted on buying the old couple their snack boxes to make up for his crude performance. I heard the flight attendant repeat those dreaded words "Sir, I need you to calm down," and I could see the distress on every staff face.
In heroic fashion, my new friends flagged down an attendant to say that they would like to switch seats with the old couple. These girls were feisty and could most certainly hold their own more fervently than the victimized grandparents. After little debate, the older couple agreed to switch seats. As soon as she could stand, the old woman lunged toward me, grasping my arm, crying and shaking in fear. She continued to apologize and repeat
"I don't understand what's going on, I'm so scared."
Between her husband and me, we managed to soothe her nerves a bit. In a feeble voice that showed her distress, she told me that she was in the beginning stages of Alzheimer's and that she was easily confused. While I sincerely felt for her, I was put somewhat at ease knowing that the events might have been exaggerated beyond reality. At 36,000 feet in the air, with 2 and a half more hours to go, I don't think I was the only one who wanted a reason to believe it was all just a misunderstanding.
Just as her trembling began to subside, I noticed a hustle and bustle across the aisle. The girls that had given up their seats were getting up to stand in the aisle to let the nut job out for a restroom break. I made eye contact with one of the sacrificial woman and she rolled her eyes and gave me a look as if to say, "I'm fed up with this asshole."
He stumbled into the aisle which was when I realized that he was intoxicated beyond what he could mask. As he turned to head to the back of the plane to relieve himself, he bent down toward the old man at the aisle, blubbering something about how "cool" has no age. This was the first time that I had seen his face. He was a middle eastern man whose diminutive stature was dwarfed even more by the disproportionate size of his large head and bulging bug eyes.
I think of myself as a cultured individual and pride myself on my interest and respect of other cultures and religions, but I must admit that in this instance, I was not so much my "worldly" self. I could tell that I wasn't the only one whose concern reached a new intensity at the realization of the skin color of the man who had caused such an ordeal. As he continued to hassle the old man and woman in passing, I tried to urge him on to the bathroom from my secluded corner by the window. The return of his presence sent the poor old woman into another frenzy. Her tremors returned and she held tight to my arm. I reassured her as he moved along, rocking back and forth, leaning on every sorry soul who happened to be in the aisle on the way to the toilet closet. When the man of the hour returned to his seat, the ladies let him back in and shortly after, he was again ringing his call button to hassle the flight attendant with more demands. Fortunately, neither of his neighboring female passengers nor the flight attendants were subject to his offensive antics for much longer.
I had begun to make progress in my book, transporting myself into the mind of an autistic boy who happened upon a neighborhood dog that had been murdered, when I noticed a flight attendant coming to once again converse with the infamous row of travelers. I saw her motion toward the front of the plane, obviously offering the 2 ladies new seat assignments in Economy Plus (LUCKY!). I thought to myself, "why would they be playing musical chairs again? Why subject yet another passenger to this guy's behavior?" The ladies moved to their new, leg roomier seats as I saw a casually dressed, yet distinguished man walk towards our row. He held a large business binder and a briefcase that didn't quite match the image of his Tommy Bahama - like khaki shorts and grey rayon shirt. I held my book slyly below my eyes and put my best listening ears on. I couldn't hear any of the conversation, but my position gave me the perfect angle to seemthe newly transplanted passenger lean over toward Mr. Crazy with his wallet in his hand. He flipped it open as he made, what seemed like, a very authoritative statement.
"Holy S#!t!" I thought. This guy is someone serious! I didn't know whether to feel safe or seriously threatened. I decided that the best thing to do was to force myself to feel the former. I said a little prayer to myself, being careful not to let on to the distraught grandma to my left that I was fearful. I dove back into my book and forced the current situation from my mind. Eventually, we landed in Denver and I can honestly say that I don't know that there has ever been a time when I have been THAT excited to touch ground. But even as we landed, the good times weren't over. As all the passengers jumped into the aisles, anxious to be free from confinement, a flight attendant came over the loud speaker, "I'm sorry for the inconvenience Ladies and Gentlemen, but we need to ask everyone to be seated immediately. Please stay in your seats until otherwise notified."
"IT'S NOT OVER!?!" I thought, but I was halfway anticipating what happened next. Two men, dressed in full police garb came down the aisle and stopped right next to my row to accompany the drunk middle eastern out, IN HANDCUFFS! I can't imagine the horrifying confusion in the minds of those at the front of the plane who had no idea of the events of the flight. After we were released from our seats, I spoke to the couple (un)lucky enough to be sitting in front of the nut job. I asked why the Air Marshal had suddenly been brought to sit next to him. Apparently, he had been dropping quite a few "trigger"words, bragging about his physical prowess because of his days as a Navy Seal and his knowledge of government intelligence. The old couple and the 2 good Samaritans exited the plane and went straight into a meeting with the officers to answer questions, I, however, got out of there. So grateful to be on land and safe, I felt a weight lifted and decided to treat myself to one of my favorite cinnamon rolls at The Coffee Beanery outside gate B45... yes, I know the Denver airport THAT well!
*Yes! I got a PEDICURE for the first time in... well at least 6 months, maybe longer. My damaged toenail has worked its way out to a somewhat respectable length and is actually able to be painted! I can't wait to get my first French pedi for Alli'es wedding!!!
