Flights to Phoenix

Ever get to your seat in a plane and hope the chair next to you remains empty? And whenever someone walks down the aisle you secretly want them to keep walking not take the coveted space?

The plane from Columbus to Charlotte on New Year's Eve was not only late but overbooked. There was no way I was going to be the one to accept a voucher to change my flight. Everyone was headed to Phoenix for the Notre Dame - Ohio State game, myself included. Leaving the night before kickoff, I wasn't going to risk giving up my seat and taking a similarly overbooked flight on American the next morning.

As I was walking to my seat, the couple in front of me was discussing how they didn't have seats next to each other. "It doesn't matter," the stereotypical rural Ohio man said, "seat assignments on these things don't matter."

Um, what?

"Oh," the equally stereotypical rural Ohio woman replied, "Ok, well then here looks good."

Weird, I thought to myself. Can't wait to see how this plays out. 

Walking to my aisle seat, I noticed the window had yet to be occupied. Yes, I thought to myself, an empty seat - only to be quickly reminded that the flight was full. Who would be the lucky occupant? Situating myself, it was time to be entertained by whatever circumstances would come from the ignorant couple a few rows ahead of me. And in walks Goliath.

Now it wasn't actually Goliath, but this dude was really really tall. Where else would he sit but next to me? The seat given to him at boarding was now occupied by the couple, who he happily allowed to remain in their seats. When he entered to get to his seat, it wasn't until after he sat down that I felt bad for not offering mine. Here is this massive human being jammed into the smaller of the two already tiny seats. So as a personal penance, I opened up the air for conversation.

His name was Stephen. He's a stand-up comic, but a massage specialist by day.

Without much reading material for my 3 hour layover in Charlotte, I occupied most of my time by walking around and either listening to music or making some calls. Walking back to the gate, it was really hard to miss the father and his two sons all with matching rollers.

Cute.

The rural Ohio duo got their comeuppance at the ticket counter for their flight to Phoenix. Because of all the delays at Charlotte, the earlier flight to Phoenix departed before half their passengers had arrived from Columbus. There were a lot of upset and angry people around the booth of my gate for the later flight to Phoenix, which was full. Just as I was showing the girl my ticket to scan, I heard the man yelling at one of the desk attendants "What's her badge number?" Referring to another staff member at the counter, "She harassed me!"

Wonder if they ever made it to the game. 

This second flight was a much larger plane than the first and I was once again herded to the very back. This time I was in the window seat and the middle seat remained empty for some time. Once again that hope started springing up inside me every time I saw someone I didn't want to sit next to. Call me judgmental, but in some cases I just want to have my space! 

In comes a guy who must've been a lineman in his earlier years. Huge. I'm talking spilling-over-the-arm-rests-even-though-he-was-sucking-it-in-and-sitting-stiff-as-a-board-the-entire-flight-huge. I felt bad for the guy. He was just built really large. He wasn't obese. He was just large. I was squished against the window, but relative to him, I must've been the more comfortable of the two. 

After four hours of discomfort (not helped by the unresponsive guy behind me who continually kicked my seat and then placed his shoeless foot on my arm rest), two personal celebrations of New Year's, and no complimentary snacks, I made it to Phoenix: hungry, thirsty and with a popped blood vessel in my eye. 

Kick-off was in 9 hours. Let's do this.   

 

Shared Silence

The other day I stopped by a coffee shop to which I had never given my patronage. Julia, one of my best friend's from home frequented the place to load up on caffeine between jobs. Though I'm really trying to save money for my move to New York, I figured "Why not buy local?" How hipster of me!

After I got something called a cortada (which was amazing) and a piece of apple cinnamon cake (equally as amazing), I whipped out my phone to draft an email, check email, respond to messages, etc. A table over, an elderly couple sat down with their beverages and made themselves comfortable. While I remained occupied with whatever was going on inside the little brick I had in my hand, they simply sat in silence. A minute or so passed by with no activity to distract me from my emails, so to distract myself I looked up. And smiled. And stared. (Luckily they never noticed the creepy guy by the window smiling and staring at them).

There was something so comforting in this couple simply enjoying each other's company. No unnecessary conversation. No fidgeting. No need to be entertained. Who knows how long they had been together or what their back story was. They just sat there, he looking around at the walls of the cafe while she focused her gaze on something outside. Not a word was spoken. No phones were pulled out or worse on the table. No books. Mo newspapers. Nothing. They were so comfortable just existing in the other's presence.

That exchange, or lack thereof is just one of the many examples of how love can be shared. Simply in their presence to one another. Their comfort gave me comfort. Two individuals, one couple. No worry. Just love.

Eventually they did make some inaudible conversation, and instinctively I recoiled back to my phone in hopes they wouldn't look over to the smiling observer. The scene played in my head the rest of the day - do I have that in my life? With whom? With whom do I share in that kind of love?