Day: February 24, 2012

The woman in 1D wore a revolver pendant hung from a heavy metal necklace. Looked to me to be a snub nose Remington, maybe a .38. She had leathery skin and a severe philtrum with several deep creases. When she extended her arms to lift her bag her drab shirt rose to reveal an anomalous tube of fat (she wasn’t a heavy woman) that slumped over her belt. She appeared to me to be wound tight. Seated next to her was a spittin image of Keith Richards. He had the deep socket eyes, the high cheeks and the gaunt face but lacked the crisscross creases owing to years of self directed tyranny. He was working on it though. The entire flight he decanted one tall glass of champagne after another into a half-filled glass of orange juice. Billie the fastidious flight attendant kept it half-filled. Revolver woman became frantic by the sudden command from Billie that all electronic devices be turned off immediately. An alert man seated in 1A leaned over and calmly demonstrated for her how to turn off her iPhone.

Later in the flight I awoke from a nap and saw Billie bearing down on me putting on a pair of stretch plastic gloves. Her eyes were aglow and fixed on me. Her index finger like a probe. “You may feel an uncomfortable pressure.” In fact, I wasn’t really awake.

Just prior to door closure and cross check there was heightened concern over inadequate room for passengers’ baggage. A commotion broke out between the boarding agent and Billie. My money was on Billie. It disturbed the overall quietude in first class. My row mate offered up a gesture of detente. Fortunate for him Billie didn’t see it.