Japan again. Same old goddamn Japan. It never changes. The flight was okay. I tried as much as possible to sedate, sedate, sedate. Two white wines in Montreal after driving through the aftermath of a bazillion snowstorms. At the usual bar. No one I knew there any more (do you know how many times I’ve done this?)
Plane to Detroit. That was unusual, as I usually go to Vancouver with Air Canada but they don’t fly to Osaka any more so it was Northwest.
It was okay. Detroit is a very nice airport and it wasn’t a big hassle to transfer to the new plane. But . . . the prospect of 14 hours in a too-small seat was pretty paralyzing, to say the least. Slamming two white wines before boarding had the desired effect of allowing me to “sleep” and I only stirred intermittently to adjust positions, all of which were extremely painful after about ten minutes.
So that’s how I killed 14 hours. There was a shy Japanese kid in the middle seat and I sparked up the laptop and booted Chopper so he was able to play a couple of games (he was good!) but it was then that it was established that they had seated him and his father in totally different seats, so I went to where his father was sitting and practically ordered him to take my seat. I only regret that his father wasn’t in first class.
So here I sit in tatami-ville, just wanting to be anywhere but here, preferably my own bed but looking forward to another six days of this.
Maybe by then my ass won’t be so goddamn sore and I’ll be able to sit in an airplane seat for 17 hours again.
Maybe.
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