The Flight of Neverending Hunger pt 1

The day after our return from Steubenville I spent with one of my other bff's, Maya. I only stayed the one night, but her family spoiled me with Dairy Queen, pancakes with whipped cream for breakfast, and non-homogenized milk ;) (that means there's cream floating around in it yum!) They also did everything possible to make sure I was completely ready for my flight Monday evening. Maya and I slept in (which was really very lovely after a crazy weekend) and spent the rest of the day fooling around with the editing of our next film. It's as yet unnamed,

but I can assure you it is a masterpiece, and I'm not the only one who plays a guy this time! ;)


That afternoon her family took me to the airport and walked me to security, where I waved goodbye and walked through without any problems. Having traveled before (ha, understatement), I made it to my gate without any problems and started reading a book that Maya let me borrow.
That was the peaceful, enjoyable beginning of my travels. (insert ominous sound effect here)

As soon as we were all boarded, had learned (for my millionth time) how to use the flotation device, "locate the nearest exit", and fasten our seat belts, there came an announcement over the loudspeaker,

"This is your captain speaking. Welcome aboard."

If only he had stopped there.

"I'm afraid we're unable to depart at this time due to heavy rains in Dallas (our destination). We've been asked to delay one hour. You're welcome to exit the plane, but remember, if you do so, even to grab a bite to eat, you must take all carryon items with you."

I wasn't about to get my dufflebag, which was practically bursting at the seams (see 'California Here I Come!') out of the overhead bin. I had barely gotten the thing in there to begin with. Plus, Maya's mom had made that huge breakfast of pancakes and whipped cream at noon, so I really wasn't hungry yet. I unbuckled my seatbelt, made myself more comfortable and kept reading.

An hour later:

"This is your captain speaking. Well, heavy rains are still falling in Dallas, and I'm afraid we're going to have to delay things another hour. If you need to leave the plane and make other arrangements, feel free to do so at this time."

A lot of people in the seats around me began gathering up their things to go get something to eat. The family in front of me left completely, one of the kids wailing to his mother, "does this mean we can't go home?"

This is where I should have gotten off and gotten something to eat, but, being the extremely lazy person that I am, I put up the arm rest of the vacant seat next to me, spread out and kept reading my book.
The wait wouldn't really have been that bad, almost comfortable, actually. I had a book, room to put my feet on the other seat, and it wasn't too cold on the plane. I had forgotten what it was like to travel with a baby. About 5 rows behind me, there was, indeed, a baby. A screaming baby. But this screaming baby was unlike any other screaming baby I have ever had to endure. I can block out most screams and cries and read in peace, thanks to long car trips with small siblings, but this child was different. This baby shrieked with joy. I'm not kidding. High-pitched, deafening shrieks of joy. I could tell it was a happy baby from the shrieks and from the fact that the mother didn't nothing to make it stop. However, I was sympathetic to the parents, because, in my experience (which isn't vast, but decent), there's not much you can do with a baby as far as happy noises go. I therefore tried to block the unearthly, bloodcurdling, noises of terror from my aching ears and keep reading.

Unfortunately, the couple behind me was less immune to the sounds. This couple, who I had already come to know as "Babe" and "Babe" from overhearing their loud conversations to one another, simply could not tolerate the shrieks of a happy baby. Every time there was a shriek, it was immediately accompanied by an "Oh god" from Babe(female) and a grunt of assent from Babe(male). As the screams continued to occur, the ejaculations grew in intensity and color. They were probably more obnoxious than the screams. At one point, Babe(female) was heard to remark pointedly (and rather loudly, probably in the hopes of making an impression on the helpless mother of Baby) to Babe(male), "Babe, when we have kids......."
Unfortunately I didn't catch the last bit as it was drowned in yet another joyous outburst from the baby in the back, but heaven help their future kids.

We finally did take off from Dayton, and the mood became less tense, as Baby became less happy and cried: a much more soothing noise to our raw ears. Babe and Babe were still annoying, frequently kissing loudly, and conversing in unmuted tones, but, after learning to block out shrieks of joy, I was able to block them out too and concentrate on my book. I also wrote a little poem. No, I'm not going to share it with you. This one is too ridiculous even for me. It started out as melodramatic musings about the plane and the carpet of clouds...and ended up being an annoyed account of my flight, including lines like, "some perpetually kissing in the row behind" and "a baby screams with joy and my ears flinch" and,

"So I'll sit
And wait
And chew my ancient gum
While dreaming of food
And ignoring the gnawing in my stomach"

Yes, this "poem", was hardly something that could be commended for literary merit, but maybe it will bring back memories and make me laugh some day.

You can see though, that I was already becoming hungry. I reassured myself, however, that I would get something to eat in Dallas....

But would I?
(to be continued)