Altitude 36,000 Feet

I am somewhere over the Bering Straight at the moment. Our flight departed some seven hours ago and perhaps another five remain. It is about 8am in the morning in Tokyo and more or less the time I’d be getting out of school had I still been in New York. The highlight of these last seven hours of flight is the occasional meal or whiff of methane that stirs the otherwise catatonic spirit. The apple sauce cookies they are giving out are super yummy. I may perhaps be on my second or third bag. My derriere is suffering from lack of movement and circulation of blood in my petite fesses. It rather sucks.

I went to the bathroom for a long awaited piss, the result of the cup of coffee that is fueling this burst creative prose. I would otherwise just sit here with mouth ajar and a fine silver thread of drool lazily hanging from my chin as I watched a featured selection. They have several movies and shows to choose from but CSI and the Disney flick Madagascar thus far are my favorite choices on the interactive LCD screen before me. I also happened to watch the second half of Nacho Libre. I thought about my friend Claudio, whom I saw it with at the movies and wondered whether or not he condone to my watching the cheesy nacho rubbish again.

I managed to steal away about fifteen or twenty minuets of stand-and-stretch time at the back of the plane with the flight attendant girls. I naturally took the opportunity to ask for an extra bag of the previously mentioned cookies in Japanese which resulted in a long exchange of my Nihongono skills and praises on their part.

After my rather long cookie heist at the back of the plane, I made my way back to my seat. My gullible friend inquired about my lengthy excursion on the 747. I told him that I was playing poker with the flight attendants in the back and had just won the $20 jack pot. He seemed to approve of my explanation and I dismissed his willingness to accept my fib as perhaps the result of the limited amount of oxygen at an altitude of 36,000 feet.

*An attendant just passed by and I asked for tissue. She didn’t respond nor say anything on her return with the paper. My travel buddy commented on the lack of words on her part and I explained that she had five bucks invested in the pot I had just won and that chance had just provided her a pair of two’s which might explain the grudge she seemed to be holding. “Oh”, he replied. -Thin air indeed.

My rendezvous around the cabin ended just in time for my second meal. I guess that means its time for me to go.