Shuffle Butts / OR / Wait! Am I Flying To Ireland?!

This story will be composed of two separate stories. Each may be separate but they will be invaluably interrelated as you will come to find that the first story will tell a story that will relate to the second story and if the second story is not told, it will make the first story lose the full meaning that it could not have without the second story.
I am currently flying on a flight to St Thomas with my mom. We flew in to Charlotte (yes, God help me, Charlotte once again) from Chicago and then had to sit for a few hours waiting for our flight to St Thomas. We flew into Charlotte on United – wonderful, organized, get the passengers on and take off United. We are flying US Air from Charlotte to St Thomas. Horrible, squished together, circus flight, lets make 'em wait on the ground as long as we can US Air. Help.
I booked our tickets quite a while ago and had been sure that I had put mom and I sitting by each other. However, when I checked when I was at the airport earlier this week, I was informed that we were not sitting together, but there was nothing United could do to change the seats as it was a code share flight with US Air and US Air had to change it. I figured if we got there early enough, they would be able to put us together. No can do. We were stuck – mom in 10 A and Alison in 12 B.
The flight was supposed to leave at 11:20 but because the flight that was coming in from Providence whose plane we would be using was delayed, our flight changed from 11:20 to 12:10 to 12:15 to 12:30. We went down to the gate just to make sure and sure enough – we started boarding at – 12:30. I’m pretty terrible at math, but I quickly figured in my head, if Alison boards plane in Charlotte at 12:30, Alison will not be leaving Charlotte at 12:30. It was like one of those math problems they give you in 4th grade, only this one was pretty easy.
We got on the plane and took our respective seats. I told mom to make sure the people sitting by her were together and I told her I’d see if the people I was sitting by were together. That way we could figure out if there could be a switch made.
Mind you, St Thomas is not Pittsburgh or Kansas City or Des Moines – one of those relaxing cities that love birds fly away to for a weekend. Joke – It is the love bird paradise (this was quickly reaffirmed to me as I stood in the midst of 20 couples loudly making out with each other, waiting to board the plane – theres nothing worse than that loud, slow, wet kissing sound that people make… that DOES NOT come from a place of single jealousy – that comes from a lifelong place of sheer naseauated disgust). So, it was no surprise to get on the flight and find out that everyone on the flight was travelling with at least one person if not even a group.
I quickly figured out that I was sitting by two people who were unrelated to anyone else in the cabin. Woman A was a middle aged woman who smelled of age and extended travel time. Woman B was an old Mexican woman who had left her house at 2 that morning and had mistakenly grabbed a bottle of Raid and doused herself in it rather than her old woman Chanel de Smog. Woman A and I shifted around and stepped in the aisle to allow Woman B to enter our row and take her seat by the window. We then re-enetered our row and settled, whereupon, Woman B exclaimed in her old lady Mexican voice “Whad seed is dis I am sitting in?” to which I kindly replied “If you would learn to read the English alaphabet, you would discover that you are in seat 12A” to which she exclaimed “I dun no if I am in da rite seed – but I will not let you see my ticket so you can help me figure dis out – no, I will keep my ticket close to my chest and waft my scent of Raid as I wave my arms and try to figure out if I am in da right seed!” As I was ready to turn blue with the toxic scent, she then discovered she belonged in 12D. Woman A and I then re-exited our cozy seeding assignment and let her out. There she stood in the aisle still contemplating that this was the right move. After three times of playing some Sesame Street redition of following the bouncing finger, I was able to point to the numbers and letters on the bin above her seat and the numbers and letters on her ticket stub. Happily she clambored into her new row and I motioned mom to come back.
Since I am Star Gold with the Alliance, mom and I were allowed to be some of the first to board. So, by the time we had actually settled in our seats, all the other crowds were making their way on. And – they were all discovering that they were in the same predicament as mom and I. Bob’s two year old daughter was seated in seat 9C while her mother was screaming from seat 3F to her husband who was logically seated in 27B. Husbands who were seated in 24C bartered with grandmothers who were placed in 10D. Pandamonium had struck. “Hi, I’m supposed to be in 12 F but my wife is in 9A. Can I trade seats with you so we can sit together? “ “well, I’m not sure, I’m quite happy sitting in my middle seat of 9B here. Its very comfortable and I’ve begun to think of it has home. What is the seat again that you want me to sit in?” “”12F – it’s a lovely window seat” “Window seat you say? Hmmm… what would the view be like? Do you know your neighbors?” “I believe the view is extraordinary and I have recently run the credit reports of those sitting by that seat and they are upstanding citizens!” “ Hm, well, I suppose I can go back and try it. But if I don’t like it, I’m going to come back and get this seat back.” 3 MINUTES LATER “Hi – I went back and checked out 12F and I’m just not satisfied. I know we had discussed a return policy and I would now like to take advantage of that. I really do miss the middle seat feeling of being sequestered in a small womb. “ To which Husband and Wife gaily trip back down the aisle inquiring at every side – “Hi – will you trade seats with me” and are followed by a long snake-like line of people waiting to actually get to their seats which are on the other side of Husband and Wife.
Heads are continually going down and then popping up and squeezing around other people to readjust themselves in other locations which are closer to someone that they know and love. Finally, a group of 9 people have retooled and bargained off with enough other people that now they are all seated together – behind us. They’re on their way to a wedding. There is much laughter and merriment and loud joking – AND LOUD joking. I suddenly have flashbacks of another flight so long ago.
It was 2008 and I had taken mom, dad and Aunt June on a small island tour in the land of the Queen. We – okay – I had decided that since we were right there, they should all get a glimpse of the land of the green so we boarded a flight in Birmingham, England and departed for Dublin, Ireland. Well – that made it sound quick and painless. Quick and painless it was not. We flew the good ol’ airline of Ryan Air which is Ireland’s answer to Southwest – “y’all get on board now, ya hear! Just push and shove your way on and find any seat that you can and hurdle yourself in and strap yourself in!” Well, the difference was Ryan Air did have seating assignments, and apparently the Irish do not dare impede the process of the seating assignments. So, they all stayed in their respective seats, but then stood and yelled at the others who were in their party. “Ian – ya! We’r gonna have da’ time o’ our lives tunite!” There was loud laughter and frivolity as Mickey O’Toole flirted with Shannon O’Reilly and then Finnigan McHandishan talked about playing cards with Sullivan O’Sullivan. Hooping and hollering – it was Friday and all was good with the Irish world waiting. And there my 85 year old dad, and my 70 something mom and Aunt sat until my mom had finally had enough of the noise and started “shushing” everyone who dared carry a decibel louder than 2. The one great thing about Ryan Air, though – we took off on time!
US Air – lets do some simple 4th grade math problems here. If 200 people change their seats 20 times and 40 of those people end up getting up 30 times to go to the bathroom before the door is closed 45 minutes after the listed take off time – what time did we actually take off. If you said 1:30 – you would have just won some type of scholarship – if I were giving out scholarships for doing meaningless, nonsenseacle word problems. Every time another little gray head would pop up like the spring calling groundhog and pivot their head both ways before spotting the words “Toilet” and then have everyone in their row get up so they could shuffle back to the facilities, I would scream in my head (or it may have been out loud – that could have explained all the people around me shrinking away from me) “Sweet Monkeys!!!! Sit down you Metamucil induced fool! You may have retired, but I have to be back here by next Saturday to start the process over again!” I began seeing the logic of backing a program for airline attendants to carry some type of weapon or at least a syringe full of a logic serum… there’s got to be something like that out there!
Before long – I say this proverbially as it was actually way too long… - everyone was buckled into their little seats and the US Air “We Really Want You To Be Safe” video was playing. We learned how to buckle our seats belts, and then a lady and a little girl demonstrated how we should not panic if we needed oxygen masks. It was also very informative to find out that, since we were flying over a large body of water, we did have life vests under the seat in front of us! Hey – that’s really cool! Theres a life vest under the seat in--- WAIT! I just tried to bend over to take a look at this alleged life vest and I’ve leaned forward at a 20 degree angle only to have the seat in front of me – directly in front of me. Wait – now the old lady in the seat in front of me is reclining her seat – I’m now at a 5 degree angle and I can see her nose hairs as I’m looking over the top of her seat. Dear Maria! I can’t even see my feet! I’m so appreciative that they’ve put a life vest under the seat in front of me and have instructed that for my safety I should leave all my items behind if I need my life vest. Unforatunately, I’ve discovered that in order to get my life vest, I need to get my purse which is directly under the life vest. At this point, I’m planning my escape…. Ok – get strap of purse looped around big toe. Elbow mom as I frantically grab purse and throw behind me. Bend my body in half and retrieve life vest under seat in front of me. Get stuck under seat in front of me. End up praying the Lord’s prayer as by this time I’m facing a watery death in the most humiliating yoga position not known.
Can I revert back to the Ryan Air flight long enough to say that, on Monday, when we returned back to sedate, sleepy Birmingham – that’s what our flight was. All the people who had been yelling and cursing and laughing going over to Ireland were now sitting quietly in their seats with their sunglasses on and their head in the hands. Who cares where their best buddy was sitting or where their darling Maureen was assigned to – all they cared about was quiet – peace and quiet. Mom got her “shush”.
Back to St Thomas – I know the island is small – all I ask is that it be larger than this plane. And that everyone just find their seats and sit down! Oh - and make sure I can reach my life vest, please!