List Served #4 – Transatlanticism

List Served is a regular feature wherein I present you with an ordered grouping of (at least tangentially) related points. I love lists and the internet loves ephemeral minutiae. It’s all good.

Chronological Observations From My Recent 18 Hours (adjusted for time zone differences) in Transatlantic Transit

• Okay, three minutes after take-off and I’m gonna bust out the emergency chocolate rations.
• I told my mother that I cleaned out my fridge so that if she has to go through my apartment in the event of a deadly crash that she won’t have to be embarrassed at what a lazy slag of a housekeeper her daughter is. She laughed. If I ever go into therapy, I’m sooo gonna bring that up.
• I should never have taken out travel insurance.  I feel almost duty bound to be fatalistic in order to get my money’s worth out of it.
• Dude, why did I shotgun that Chardonnay on an empty stomach? Not cool. Not cool at all.
• Oh man, I hate pineapple in fruit salad. It contaminates everything.
• Why does the airline have exactly the same taste as I do in obscure-ish tv comedies? Seriously, Summer Heights High? Spaced? Eastbound and Down? F’reals?
• Am I the only one who doesn’t like to re-watch movies because I worry that I won’t like them as much the second time through? Unless we’re talking about Overboard. Kurt Russell’s mullet and those hillbilly kids never get old. NEVER.
• Oh, now I have a new friend. Dude, just because your seatback tv doesn’t work doesn’t mean you can invade my space. And moving my laptop off “your” new seat is not cool.
• Currently building a Berlin Wall out of pillows on the seat between us.
• Pretty sure he can’t see my screen. Shooting him the side eye to confirm. Nope, engrossed in the Fast and Furious. Wonder who else might be able to see what I’m typing. Paranoid now. Not enough side eyes to go around. Also, hard to execute with glasses on.
• Shouldn’t I have to pee by now?  All that wine and a diet Coke.
• Oh God, is it only 7:30 PM? So tired. I couldn’t sleep last night because I was trying to remember where Balki’s character on Perfect Strangers was originally from. Ready to pass out now.
• Cabin lights just dimmed. Everything is red now. Very brothel-y.
• Hella bored. Hella bored.
• The Frankfurt airport apparently has showers. How bourgeois is it that I would seriously consider paying $10 for some hot water and soap? Mama has a hygiene fetish, ‘tis true.
• Dudes, the aisle is for walking up and/or down, not picking up. Take the banter elsewhere, you’re impeding the path to the bathroom. Seriously, it’s the red light, isn’t it?
• Aisle is also not for doing calisthenics. Talking to you, elderly gentleman in the Hawaiian shirt.
• OMG, have to pee NOW.
• I wish I had someone to play tic-tac-toe with. Is that meta? Unsure.
• I just realized that I have to stand on the seat to reach the fresh air vent. Humbling that.
• Five hours in the Frankfurt airport, with another one and a half to go. Misanthropy is hovering at an 8.5 on a scale of 1 – 10. The fact that my colleague is kicking it in the business lounge and I’m hanging out in the cattle pen that constitutes economy class gate seating doesn’t help.
• It would suck if your dad looked exactly like Quasimodo. I imagine that might make growing up kinda rough.
• It would also suck if your father made you and your brother wear matching high-waisted khakis (with matching belts, natch) and all three of you had to walk through the airport holding hands.
• One of my coworkers calls Fanta the official drink of the third world. Just noticed an empty bottle on the seat across from me.
• God, I have to get on another plane and then be pseudo-chauffered for hours through the countryside. Might hit 40 hours of straight wakefulness yet.
• Yes, Irish guy, I did sort of steal your seat. They switched me to an aisle at my request, but it was too far in the back, so I just kept my original spot. But I actually did you a favour because you and your Norwegian friend got to sit together.
• Must not fall asleep in car. Mouth will hang open for sure. Have to keep fighting indignity.
• My passport photo is so monstrous that the border agent had to do a side-by-side comparison. She remained skeptical (lady, if I was carrying a fake passport, don’t you think I’d opt for a more flattering picture?), but let us proceed.
• Spontaneous, simultaneous laughter when a-ha’s Over the Treetops comes on the radio = priceless.
• Hotel room has two beds but no facecloths. You win some, you lose some. Red velvet color scheme is very baroque.  No eerie twin sightings yet, but I wouldn’t rule it out.
• Unconsciousness