Lesson 3/12 - Set the scene

Lesson 3/12 - Set the scene

Luggage

 

My seat, 44a (the last one in the row, and highly recommended) on the transatlantic flight to Israel, has several huge advantages. I get to board right after all the pregnant women and families with young children but even more important; when I get to my seat all the luggage racks are still open.

 The one right above me is taken, as always, by the crew, for reasons unknown to me. So I put my carry- on in the one next to it, and thus have the honor to set in motion an amusing game, similar to the missing chair game.* (details below)

 It’s like a life- size, intricate puzzle, when one frustrated passenger after another tries to fit oversized suitcases, and assorted handbags, in the narrow spaces of the overhead compartments.  Knowing well in advance that it will not work, it cannot work, since we are short one space in each row.

 With a deep sigh of relief (three hours of car ride, connecting flight, two hours of layover, strenuous security check) I sink into my seat and watch the drama unfolding in front of me. It is one of the few things that never fail to amuse me on transatlantic flights. The way the passengers are dealing with their carry-on bags in face of the obviously, not sufficient, over head luggage space. A relatively small issue, I realize, in comparison to the overall unpleasant saga flights had become lately, but never-the-less crucial.

I can see the expression, of utter frustration, on the man in front of me (43a) as he realizes that his rightful space was taken (by me). For few minutes he tries to maneuver his luggage in by turning it in all possible angles. He tries to put it in straight, and then in an angle, with no success. He even turns to me and asks:

 “Would you care if I’ll move your bag a bit?”

“Not at all”, I am a picture of consideration and empathy.

 His forehead is knotted and what he mutters under his breath I can only guess. After few unsuccessful tries he looks at me again with a question on his face and I just smile sweetly and shrug my shoulders. Now the stewardess interferes, she makes a quick assessment and offer to take the luggage in question and find it a place in another section of the plane. At this moment I can completely empathize with the sad and forlorn expression on my neighbors’ face, recalling how precious is every item in my carry- on, lying peacefully above my head.

The next passenger to take part in the game is not so compliant. When he realizes how futile are his attempts to fit his humongous valise  the correct way, he just leaves it laying there, half in and half out, and walks away nonchalantly as if to say:

“I did all that I could, from now on it is not my problem.”

On the next isle over I notice buds of organization, when few passengers in what seems to be a group effort, or maybe just an act of desperation, empty out few consecutive  compartments and try to refit everything in. They repeat the process two or three times and each time end up with the same results, one extra piece of luggage.

Luggage up, luggage down, an assortment of items falling on people heads and being pushed back, at some point my eyes start to feel very heavy and I must have dozed off. When I open them again we are suspended at thirty thousand feet high, the lights are deemed and no suitcases are within sight.

• The missing chair game – also called musical chairs.
• http://www.ehow.com/video_4468204_musical-chairs_-preschool-games.html