Being on a long-distance flight is a lot like being in daycare.
"Snack time!" Everyone perks up, gets a rationed amoung thrown at them (no, you can't have seconds, but if you're a good passenger...) and downs it in as little time as possible.
"Throw your trash here!" They make sure there's no extracurricular trash disposal and your space must be kept neat, your "tray table" tidily hidden and your chair upright, like a good little boy.
"Keep your seat belts on!" And before you can ask how long it is to the destination, they constantly throw at you how much time, down to the minute. If you want to go to the bathroom, you have to do everything short of asking permission.
"Movie time!"
"Lights out!"
"Time to get up!"
And none of these are done subtly, with the turning on and off of hundreds of "soft" lights by the "captain".
And on a good landing, like after an entertaining midday TV show, we applaud the whole act and seem to actually be grateful that we were allowed to revert back to innocence, if only for a few hours.
I'm almost in Lisboa, dressed in my second layer of clothing, and wondring what this next new experience will be like. No sense anticipating now! Here we go!
Peace
John
