actually it’s 4:48:12 PM EDT but what time is it really if I’m flying?
Whoa. I started this entry to write something else but this “what time is it really” thing has really got me thinking. When you fly into another time zone, it’s like you’re in a time warp in the air. I mean, I have no idea what time it really is for me. I was in Eastern time and I’m headed for Mountain time but right now I’m probably passing over the Central time zone. So then what time is it?
The flight attendant comes by asking us what beverage we want with our meals. The guy next to me says, “Uh, apple juice.” Flight attendant woman stops and looks confused for a moment, then says, (imagine British accent here) “I’m sorry sir, we don’t have hot apple juice. Would you like cold apple juice instead?”
What? No hot apple juice? I guess that means they’re not going to make me my dry nonfat double cappucino. Darnit.
actually it’s 3:49:40 PM PDT but that’s not really my time zone ’cause I’m on a plane flying cross-country
I hate it when the person in the seat next to mine on the plane takes up the entire armrest. The guy sitting next to me is doing just that, and then some. At least he’s not so fat that he has to put the armrest up and spill over into my seat. I really hate it when that happens.
D’oh. He just leaned over and talked to me. Now I can’t write anything bad about him. For some reason I just can’t be harsh or mean once a stranger humanizes himself.
And, yes, that’s himself or herself. I was trying to be grammatically correct, not sexist.
Anyway, back to this armrest thing. I truly believe that seat boundaries should be enforced. Perhaps the airlines should look into installing some sort of laser that zaps seat boundary violators. Wanna keep your arm? Then keep it on your side of the boundary! If it crosses over then you’re losing it and don’t ask me to give it back because I’m chucking it to the other end of the plane. Bye-bye, arm!