September 14, 2007

Part two of my journey to Atlanta finds us waiting to take off from LaGuardia. My friend, “Pat,” and me are on the plane. The pilot has informed us we’re number 22 to take off. Yes, number 22. Welcome to NY.

We are way back in Row 26. The plane is only about two-thirds full and we could’ve moved up closer, but are content where we’re sitting -and I’m in the middle of a three-seat row. Besides, we have a really cool cabinmate to keep us company. As we sit on the tarmac awaiting departure, he’s already asleep.

Finally, we’re cleared for take-off and are airborne, headed for Atlanta. After receiving the all-clear, the stewardesses begin dispensing drinks and snacks. Pat asks for a Bloody Mary; I ask for a Coke. On second thought, I ask if they have any champagne, which I’m told they do. I ask for two bottles (one for now, and one for later) and some orange juice. After figuring out that the miniature bottle has a screwtop and not - thankfully, a pop-cork, I make a Mimosa. As it turned out, it made three Mimosas. Two of them, I actually drank. The third, well –

Somewhere between getting our drinks and preparing for landing, I disrupted the delicate balance of our sleeping cabinmate. One miscalculated move to refasten my seatbelt shifted the tray which sent the plastic cup, ice cubes and alcoholic contents flying to the ground. But not before dousing my innocently sleeping neighbor - his pants, and his neon green Nike sneakers with champagne and orange juice.

I was horrified and proceeded to profusely apologize. He was so kind. Despite the champagne bath he had just endured, he was really very nice - and now wide awake. Probably wishing he had moved to a different seat when he had the chance, and afraid of what could possibly happen next.

What I haven’t mentioned is that, prior to my unfortunate miscalculation, Pat had done the same thing, and spilled the cup containing the Bloody Mary. The cup was almost empty, so I wasn’t subjected to nearly the kind of bath as my neighbor. Domino effect? Seems like. Pat and I started laughing, and couldn’t stop. Although it wasn’t funny to our neighbor - it was very funny to us. And the more we tried to stop laughing, the harder we laughed.

Fortunately, the rest of the flight was uneventful. I stashed the second bottle of champagne in my purse for later. We landed, I again apologized to our neighbor, and then got off the plane.

By the way, I never drank the second bottle of champagne. In fact, it’s sitting in my refrigerator right now. Chilling.

Cheers.

Next up - Part 3, or how not to spend your night with 50,000 other onlookers.

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