Last week I flew to Toronto for the day for work. It was my first time taking Porter Airlines, and it was impressively civilized. With no class system, everyone has access to the Porter lounge where you can help yourself to free coffee, water, pop and cookies. And coffee. And lattes. Did I mention the coffee?
It was a 7am flight and thank goodness there was coffee. Did I say that already? Thank you Porter. For the coffee.
Just before going through security at the Ottawa airport, there is a mat that you have to stand on, and it is this mat that randomly decides who will be selected for extra screening. I am always chosen for extra screening. Every single freaking time. I think it is because of my girl-next-door, sweet and shy persona. They must be on to me at last.
At least now I can choose between the physically invasive pat-down, or the full body scan in which I know that someone, somewhere is getting to look at me naked. And it is probably not Hugh Jackman. Sigh.
But all of this is trivial compared to the really important issue in air travel which is: who gets to use the armrest between you and your seat mate? On my way to Toronto, the man beside me who looked to be about twelve but who said he was some sort of regional manager of something or other immediately commandeered it for his own use, resting his elbows, as he Blackberried like a madman. I decided to see if I could wrangle it away from him. I gradually spread out, taking up more more and more room, encroaching on his space slowly but surely.
But then dang, the drink cart arrived. Wait, not dang, because there was coffee.
Have I mentioned that ‘dang’ is my new favourite word?
Now where was I? Ah yes, the drink cart had arrived and here was my chance. My seat mate reached over to grab his coffee from the flight attendant, but because he would not put down his Blackberry while he grabbed, he spilled his coffee all over me and my new black skirt.
Apologizing sincerely to me, I did not allow myself to become distracted. I saw my opportunity and I took it.
The. Armrest. Was. Mine.