Greetings from the uncomfortable chair I am sitting in! HI MOMMY IT’S KRISTYN. Meow!
Anyway.
I’m going to write not about our crazy-hectic tour of London, but about something very different from Cali or Hannah. I’m going to write about the plane ride. As some might not know, I’d never been on a plane before. I had no idea what to expect but right from the start it wasn’t too bad. They checked my passport and put my suitcase on the conveyor belt, blah blah blah I’m quite sure you all are familiar with the details of plane travel. It went well except for the minor hiccup of not having signed my passport (THANKS MOM) and Cassi leaving her water bottle in her carry-on and holding up the whole line so airport security could be doubly sure Cassi wasn’t some creative terrorist.
We waited for a couple hours then boarded. The plane was a lot smaller than I expected. It was awkward squeezing my butt past people I didn’t know and awkwardly apologizing whilst whacking other people in the face with my terribly cumbersome carry-on. I had seat 26F, whatever that meant. I informed the far-too-cheery-than-was-necessary flight attendant that I didn’t know where I was going. She unhelpfully pointed down the row and told me it was a window seat. Gee thanks lady.
I found my seat, which was indeed a window seat, but there was some dude I didn’t know on the end and I really did not feel like borderline sexually assaulting him in order to get to my seat. He noticed I wanted to sit near Hannah, who was in the seat right across from him. So he oh-so-kindly scooted to the window and let me sit in his seat. And he had a gorgeous French accent. In addition, Hannah was seated next to a British girl. Anyone who doesn’t know Hannah should know how intrigued she is with the British and all that they do and say. So it didn’t come as a surprise when she kept trying to strike up a conversation with her. J
A few fitful naps later, complete with the iPad of the girl across me reflecting light right in my eyes (I’d like to know why she needed the light on when her iPad makes its own light), I woke up, having missed breakfast. I watched fluffy clouds and gradually approaching fields and greenery until we landed and I talked to my very first British person, at the airport. Of course I made a complete fool of myself.
“’Ello,” he said very British-ey.
“’Ello!!” I responded like a stupid American.
I wanted to get back on the plane and go back.
He didn’t react and the only reason I can think of as to why is because he gets it all the time from Americans, which only makes me even more mortified. Oh, and then in my embarrassment I somehow forgot the word ‘passport’ so I was like, “Here’s my… thingie.”
A rocky start. Then an Indian man started making fun of Hannah’s height. All in all, a weird start to my time in London.
I guess we all need a strange first-flight story.
-Kristyn
PS I got way better at talking to British people, by the way. BRILLIANT!!
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