This was my first attempt at one of the WD’s writing prompts…good exersize..tell me what you think!
Im always late! Running through the boarding ramp I barey made it, only to find some snowboard dude hidden behind his mp3 player in my seat. Exhasperated and dizzy from my sprint, I motion for the attendant. After a brief explanation, I was escorted to the front of the plane. As if in a dream, a curtain was pulled back to reveal large deep leather seats, a beautiful assistant serving sparkling liquid in fluted glasses, and a far more attractive and relaxed crowd of passengers. The attendant apologized. and explained that due to overbooking there were no other seats on the plane. I was asked to take my seat and prepare for take-off.
Still numb from the fortuitous turn I lifted the overhead compartment to stow my carryon, I was shoved from behind. Bent over in an embarrassing display amongst the first class crowd, I flew up to confront my accostor. At that moment, I found myself face to face with none other than Mick Jaggar! I was so shocked! Nothing but babble came out of my mouth. He broke the uncomfortable silence with ease, Im sorry bird, I didnt mean to spook you. His accent was half British and half wealthy international. Not knowing what to say in return, I didnt reply. I had a deer in the headlights stare and a rigid posture that would surely give away my first class newbie-ness and my burgeoning sycophantism. We settled in to our side-by-side seats silently, it was more than awkward. I bit my lip and spoke the first thing that came to my head, Wow, are you really Mick Jaggar? I felt my face turn red at the stupidity of how it sounded. There was no way I could make eye contact. Ya, thats me he replied smugly. I was becoming really tense, and imagined how much more comfortable I would have been squished between the snowboard kid and the cowboy, in coach. Before I could embarrass myself again the attendant delivered two tall glasses of champagne. I hadnt ordered it but I sure as hell was going to drink it! After the forth glass of liquid courage we were taking off.
To my surprise I was talking, and making sense. I glibly chatted about how many Stones albums I had, the concert in Sacramento in 89 that I got high at, and a bevy of other glory days accounts. I was a veritable Chatty Cathy! But all at once, the plane corrected violently left! I felt the multiple glasses of refined liquid rise to my throat in a not so refined way. I felt my nails dig into Mick (we were about to be on a first name basis very quickly!). The plane quickly corrected right and dumped jarringly. Unfortunately, I could feel the slick sweat trickle down my temples. My mouth turned to cotton. I knew what was coming but had no time to grope for an airsickness bag. Right in his lap it all went!