Japan: The Plane Trip

Needless to say, I don't need to go into how miserable a 14 hour plane ride is, nor do I need to go into the explicit details of the joys of sitting next to very questionable strangers. BUT, as this blog is really for the benefit of those who wish to keep track of me, I will, in fact, go into unnecessary and sometimes excruciating detail to keep everyone happy.

As it is a few days now since I have suffered the plane ride over, some of the details may have become a little hazy. The things that come to mind first are memories of the back pain, the nausea, the really creeeeepy guy that my roomie and I called "Frank" [a tribute to the book In the Miso Soup by Ryu Murakami].

No seriously. This guy was a perfect contender for that character. In being as Minnesotan as I possibly could be, I decided to make friendly conversation briefly during boarding--this turned out to be a rather large mistake on my part.

I asked him where he was off to, wondering naively if he were a tourist to Japan or a scholar--to which he replied that he was headed to Bangkok, for, and I kid you not as he said it his face became this animated mass of flesh that nearly made me vomit "PLEAAAAASUUURRRRREEEE". The way he salivated over the word, beady eyes gleaming behind a very toothy smile made me want to run in the other direction.

I felt my face freeze, smile plastered there, and I did that slow Hollywood turn they do in horror movies. My grin had become more of a grimace that showed teeth by the time I faced my roomie, Katt, who was sitting on my other side, and I'm pretty sure my eye twitched a few times.

The food, needless to say, was horrible, but the lesson we all really need to take from this is:



Next time, don't ask. Stifle your curiosity for the children.