Missing Connections Like My Name Was Craig.

We were cruising at about 35,000 feet last night when I started to notice that the Russian guy sitting two rows in front of me was just a little ‘off’. It wasn’t a gut feeling, or an inkling or a hunch. Rather – it was the fact that he got up, walked into the stewardess’s galley and came out with two meals which he then proceeded to wolf down while the takeoff seatbelt sign was still on.

The stewardesses, hostesses, whatever you’re supposed to call them nowadays – were towards the front of the cabin, but soon enough one of them walked back and caught Vladimir chowing down. And on a special, pre-ordered kosher meal no less. She looked at me incredulously and asked hypothetically “What the hell does he think he’s doing?” To which an older man seated directly across the aisle from me answered “You need to get security watching that guy”. Jason then threw in his $0.02 – very loud and in no uncertain terms, “I wanna knock that friggin’ idiot out”. I liked his idea better. It’s a scary world, and when you’re airborne airborne head-shaking and tut-tuting at the idiosynchracies of others should always be foregone in favor of one .45 caliber round behind the ear from an Air Marshall’s glock.

I was supposed to get to my Boston office around 9 a.m. this morning. We had an overnight, red-eye flight from Vancouver to Toronto, and then an immediate connecting flight through to Boston. It was too perfect. In reality, we never stood a ghost of a chance of making the connection, and as 10 other Beantown hopefuls chirped at a gallery of Air Canada employees Jason and I choked back the bitter and got boarding passes for Pittsburgh.

From Pittsburgh we managed to eventually get to Boston a good 7 hours later. Due to a storm Saturday night, air traffic was backed up and we waited an hour on the tarmac and then another hour in a holding pattern before we finally got home. 20 hours, four airports, a rental car and a taxi later – I was unlocking my apartment door and being scolded by a cat. And it was heavenly. I do not want to see the inside of an airplane again for a very, very long time. Unless, of course, it’s one of these.