I sat down irritably, and accidently shoved the coat next to me on the ground. It was quite hideous. Who wears a bright orange and blue plaid coat with those fake fur hoods that only ridiculously beautiful women could pull off, while the other wanabees looked like they were trying to be ghetto?
And no, I wasn't being mean at all. Only being honest…
Okay, so sue me if I'm being slightly mean, but it's not like I was ever going to say it out loud. I'm a little classy at least.
And a little polite. My mama taught me manners after all.
That being so I sent an apologetic smile to the girl-who's-trying-to-look-from-the-hood' while picking up her coat.
After all it's not her coat's fault that this stupid plane is delayed, or late, or whatever the people who work here at the airport said. I couldn't concentrate on what they were saying due to their smiles, which I don't blame them for. I read a book written by a stewardess once, a romantic comedy fiction type of book (of course), where she entwined her experiences in the story of how at the airport they had to take classes on how to smile and greet the people and stuff. And boy did I now feel bad for them. I mean, people can be such bitches at airports. Sure, of course I'd be cranky if I was coming from a 14 hour flight from hell, but don't be mean to those nice people who are forced to smile, and not accessorize, or wear non-scary makeup. Poor kids.
I looked down at my cell phone- one of my favorite possessions as it counted as a wristwatch, communication, a mirror if you got good light, and the way out of any awkward situation- and looked at the time. Hmm…three minutes had past. Sheesh.
"Attention flyers, flight 248 to Japan has now arrived and is ready to be boarded. Attention. Flight 248 to Japan is ready to be boarded."
I feel like my life is complete with those words.
Don't mind me. I can wait- trust I can be patient. Once while my dad was just 'making a quick stop at the grocery store', I had waited an hour and twelve minutes in the car, and when my dad came back all he had was bananas. Thanks dad.
So, moving on, I just hate waiting at airports, and the thought of JAPAN. NIHON. JAPAN. That's right kids, say it with me. JAPAN. Okay, don't say it with me. Just think it because if you say it out loud, like some stranger next to me with a giant plush of some anime I don't know, wearing a cape and I believe a hat that looks like the one that Ash Ketchum wears in Pokemon (which I will not lie, I do want to steal) …I will judge you. No offense…well, okay, a little offense is necessary.
Okay, now, why am I going to Japan?
It might surprise you that I'm going to study abroad. Yeah, I'm actually smart- surprisingly…okay, not smart smart, but enough to be slightly above average. Like a sliver above. It's because I'm lazy, but hey, who isn't?
I know I'm a couple of weeks early for the semester, but I want to get the feel of the city, and how to navigate through it because I can get hopelessly loss, and it's horribly embarrassing.
I stand up finally, while mentally glaring at the hideous coat that's still next to me I wait in line behind the billions of people waiting to get on the plane. As I finally make it the front of the line and hand my passport to the poor smiling lady at the small desk, I feel someone tap my shoulder.
Turning to the left I see a pretty stewardess.
Smiling my 'social smile' I simply say, "Yes?"
Her smile becomes more natural from my friendly response (You're welcome you poor, poor woman!) and she says, "Ma'am, there's room in first class if you'd like to upgrade your ticket with no expense."
I love her.
This is why I always dress nice, and classy. With my stylish short sleeve gray dress that's just above the knees, matching boots, black tights, and Coach clutch- I am a stylist's dream come true. Not that I'm bragging or anything…I just honestly have good taste.
Smiling my 'more than pleased smile', whereas I am ecstatic, I say, "I would love to."
And that's how my flight to JAPAN NIHON JAPAN would be.
Wonderful. First-freaking-class wonderful.