Home > insanity, travel > going crazy part 10: The Captain’s Washroom

going crazy part 10: The Captain’s Washroom

I awoke in a very strange space. A flight attendant brought me a duty free catalog and asked me “What do you want?” Again, I was struck by the momentousness of the question. What did I want? I went through the duty free catalog selecting presents and writing things down for my family and a few close friends. I had written down a number of things for Christa, whom I hadn’t thought about in some time and didn’t realize I still had feelings for. What do I want? echoed through my mind. I handed my list to the flight attendant.

“That’s quite a list sir. I’ll tally up the total and come back for payment.” I hadn’t realized there was payment expected. I had given all my money away weeks ago.

“You know that’s alright. I guess I was doing it as an exercise in what I want.Thanks all the same though, it was very enlightening.” She gave me a look of displeasure, quickly composed herself and left.

Filled with an incredible restlessness I could not just sit. I wondered if I could get some media on the screen. There were some buttons on the armrest and a screen in the seat ahead. I couldn’t make sense of the buttons. I pushed an up arrow and someone up ahead wearing earphones jumped in his seat. I wondered if my buttons controlled the volume on his ear set. I wondered if this were some elaborate puzzle or intelligence test. I decided I shouldn’t mess with it anymore.

There was also a counter on the armrest. It was at somewhere over 5 thousand. I wondered if it were an altimeter and I thought about the mile high club. I watched the numbers spin higher and higher and I wondered about a two mile high club, three mile high club, four mile high club, five…. There was so much I didn’t know about these people and what they were capable of. What they wanted from me.

I could no longer sit with this sense of powerlessness and impending doom. I got up and walked to the front of the plane. To the right there was a curtained alcove and a small restroom off to the side. I splashed water in my face. I was still so tired, even after that sleep. There were a set of colognes and I splashed some on. There was a jacket on a hook, a captain’s jacket. I tried it on, too narrow in the shoulders. I could not be the Captain. There was a red button. I returned to my seat.

I was sitting looking at the numbers go up on the armrest. I could not sit still. I felt something was calling me to do something. I thought now was the time. I returned to the Captain’s Washroom and pushed the red button, thinking to summon a stewardess to enroll me in whatever mile club we were at. I waited, nothing happened. I realized that was silly, things don’t work like that, and returned to my seat.

A flight attendant came, a stern older woman with curly blond hair. “We have had enough of this. You are going back to economy class and take your seat. If you get up again I will have the Captain turn this plane around. Do you hear me.”

“Yes, I understand”. I walked down the short flight of steps and pulled out my ticket. Row 23 seat “H”. I walked back feeling like everyone was looking at me, to row 23. There was no seat “H”. Where there should have been a seat there was a support beam. Strange. I wandered around until I found an empty seat and took it.

I struck up a conversation with my seat mate, a very engaging older fellow and we talked intently about something until we landed. I had made it safely back to the United States. We poured out of the plane and we carried our conversation towards customs where we had to go our separate ways, for I was an American without a checked bag and had a different line to go to. The muscular flight attendant walked by pulling one of those black wheeled bags with a handle. “Thank you for your service,” I said.

Categories: insanity, travel
  1. No comments yet.
  1. No trackbacks yet.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: