Wednesday, November 26, 2003
Flightey Moments.
I sat in the shuttle bus, slumped against the window, trying my darnest to avoid the cigerette smoke wafting towards me from the driver's seat. The blasted wind was messing up my hair, which i had combed carefully, in an attempt to allay my mom's fears that her daughter didn't care much for appearence ( which unfortunately was the truth). The driver was rattling off some senselss drivel to keep himself entertained.
" Which flight are you taking?" the bus driver asked.
" Aussie air," yelled the two ladies behind me.
" Virgin," muttered the one beside me.
" How many virgins do we have?" the bus driver asked absentmindedly.
THe minibus was suddenly filled with giggles as it dawned on everyone what the question implicated.
" All of us," I added cheekily.
Well, maybe he took me seriously or smth, but we ended up stopping outside domestic flights, leaving me and another girl to struggle a long way back to the international flights terminus. The girl looked terribly flustered, trying her darnest to find a way to carry her bags.
" It's my first time travelling back alone," she told me as i nodded sympathetically. It's always hardest on the first time. I showed her the msian flight desk, then turned my attention on the singapore desk. It looked hopeless. The man at the desk told me it didn't look reassuring. I had to come back at 4.30pm to see if there were any seats.
I bought my self hot choc and a cookie and settled in gloria jean's coffee to read my book. But i was too jumpy. I prayed hard to get a seat onboard. I didn't wanna be stuck at melbouren airport till 12am. After stoning at the cafe till 4.30pm, I hung around the SIA counter, shooting pleading, furtive glances at the ground staff. Another family was encamped a few steps away from me, also on standby. I kept exchanging terse glances with the young mother. It was one or the other. One of us standbys won't be going home on that flight. I put my head in my hands, the stress of the wait and the preceding days was starting to sink in.
After an agonising wait, they finally started to close the counter. I struck up a conversation with a ground engineer also on standby. THe guy behind the counter beckoned to the family.
" Mommy, did we get the seat?" the boy piped in.
His mother shot a glance at me, and nodded. I probably had a very stricken expression on my face. Her husband was obviously less senior a pilot than my dad and i should get the priority. Determination fuelled by desperation steeled me to march to the counter to demand a seat. I was too frazzled to indulge in the small celebration that was taking place behind me. I just wanted to get home.
But thankfully, there was no need for them. THe guy at the counter trust a ticket into my hands before I could open my mouth and waved me to the nearest departure gate. I glanced at my watch. 20 minutes to spare! Grabbing my laptop and running awkwardly, i raced to the nearest immigration point.
It was only when I was safely in my seat that I relaxed. It's been quite a while since i had ridden economy and I thanked the boddhisatvas that there was a seat available. A chinese couple squeezed across to occupy the seats beside me. Just as the captain made his welcome announcement and the plane started to inch it's way backwards, the gal next to me told her boyfriend in chinese.. " .. did you recall to switch your handphone off..."
I leaped up, startling the hell out of my neighbours and pulled open the baggage compartment. Oh.. the woes of being vertically challenging. i engaged in a full minute of leapfrogging before I managed to get a hold on my bag, turn off the offending device and shove my stuff back in .
It was an uneventful flight, punctuated by the flight stewardess dispensing hot towels in the manner one dispenses frisbees. ONe had to admire her skill as she sent towel after towel whizzing through the air.The stress was really eating me, or rather eating the mucosa of my stomach. Already the stress from the housing problems had triggered off a 3 day gastric attack, the events occurring today were doing nothing to improve my upset stomach. I was too lazy to engage in other period of jumping crazily up and down to get stuff from my bag, but my stomach told me otherwise. Steeling myself for the amused gazes of the other passengers, I reluctantly retrieved my antiacids. Oh, how i wanted the flight to be over. After half an hour of major discomfort, the antiacids managed to coax the pain into a dull ache which was slightly more bearable. I started to read my novel again. THe gruesome acts described in it horrified me to a point where I visably cringed,. Depressing, way too depressing, I shifted my attention to th einflight movie and ended up chortling at the hilarious comedy. At this point, my neighbours were seriously considering opening the nearest emergency exit and shoving me outside.
After what seemed like eons, we landed in Singapore. I watched the familiar runway appear outside the window and sighed contentedly. My worries dissolved as I took in the comforting sights. I was finally home.
I sat in the shuttle bus, slumped against the window, trying my darnest to avoid the cigerette smoke wafting towards me from the driver's seat. The blasted wind was messing up my hair, which i had combed carefully, in an attempt to allay my mom's fears that her daughter didn't care much for appearence ( which unfortunately was the truth). The driver was rattling off some senselss drivel to keep himself entertained.
" Which flight are you taking?" the bus driver asked.
" Aussie air," yelled the two ladies behind me.
" Virgin," muttered the one beside me.
" How many virgins do we have?" the bus driver asked absentmindedly.
THe minibus was suddenly filled with giggles as it dawned on everyone what the question implicated.
" All of us," I added cheekily.
Well, maybe he took me seriously or smth, but we ended up stopping outside domestic flights, leaving me and another girl to struggle a long way back to the international flights terminus. The girl looked terribly flustered, trying her darnest to find a way to carry her bags.
" It's my first time travelling back alone," she told me as i nodded sympathetically. It's always hardest on the first time. I showed her the msian flight desk, then turned my attention on the singapore desk. It looked hopeless. The man at the desk told me it didn't look reassuring. I had to come back at 4.30pm to see if there were any seats.
I bought my self hot choc and a cookie and settled in gloria jean's coffee to read my book. But i was too jumpy. I prayed hard to get a seat onboard. I didn't wanna be stuck at melbouren airport till 12am. After stoning at the cafe till 4.30pm, I hung around the SIA counter, shooting pleading, furtive glances at the ground staff. Another family was encamped a few steps away from me, also on standby. I kept exchanging terse glances with the young mother. It was one or the other. One of us standbys won't be going home on that flight. I put my head in my hands, the stress of the wait and the preceding days was starting to sink in.
After an agonising wait, they finally started to close the counter. I struck up a conversation with a ground engineer also on standby. THe guy behind the counter beckoned to the family.
" Mommy, did we get the seat?" the boy piped in.
His mother shot a glance at me, and nodded. I probably had a very stricken expression on my face. Her husband was obviously less senior a pilot than my dad and i should get the priority. Determination fuelled by desperation steeled me to march to the counter to demand a seat. I was too frazzled to indulge in the small celebration that was taking place behind me. I just wanted to get home.
But thankfully, there was no need for them. THe guy at the counter trust a ticket into my hands before I could open my mouth and waved me to the nearest departure gate. I glanced at my watch. 20 minutes to spare! Grabbing my laptop and running awkwardly, i raced to the nearest immigration point.
It was only when I was safely in my seat that I relaxed. It's been quite a while since i had ridden economy and I thanked the boddhisatvas that there was a seat available. A chinese couple squeezed across to occupy the seats beside me. Just as the captain made his welcome announcement and the plane started to inch it's way backwards, the gal next to me told her boyfriend in chinese.. " .. did you recall to switch your handphone off..."
I leaped up, startling the hell out of my neighbours and pulled open the baggage compartment. Oh.. the woes of being vertically challenging. i engaged in a full minute of leapfrogging before I managed to get a hold on my bag, turn off the offending device and shove my stuff back in .
It was an uneventful flight, punctuated by the flight stewardess dispensing hot towels in the manner one dispenses frisbees. ONe had to admire her skill as she sent towel after towel whizzing through the air.The stress was really eating me, or rather eating the mucosa of my stomach. Already the stress from the housing problems had triggered off a 3 day gastric attack, the events occurring today were doing nothing to improve my upset stomach. I was too lazy to engage in other period of jumping crazily up and down to get stuff from my bag, but my stomach told me otherwise. Steeling myself for the amused gazes of the other passengers, I reluctantly retrieved my antiacids. Oh, how i wanted the flight to be over. After half an hour of major discomfort, the antiacids managed to coax the pain into a dull ache which was slightly more bearable. I started to read my novel again. THe gruesome acts described in it horrified me to a point where I visably cringed,. Depressing, way too depressing, I shifted my attention to th einflight movie and ended up chortling at the hilarious comedy. At this point, my neighbours were seriously considering opening the nearest emergency exit and shoving me outside.
After what seemed like eons, we landed in Singapore. I watched the familiar runway appear outside the window and sighed contentedly. My worries dissolved as I took in the comforting sights. I was finally home.
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