RUM AND CIGARS. IT MUST BE CUBA

5/3/18:  The first leg of my trip to Cuba meant flying a puddle jumper to Phoenix, and then taking a direct flight to Miami , where the ship to Cuba was berthed. The plan was to rendezvous with my son, Josh, and daughter-in-law, Barbara, who were flying in from Washington, DC.  

Settling into my aisle seat on American Airlines, I exchanged pleasantries with an attractive woman who was sitting next to the window. The middle seat was empty. Suddenly, an ominous shadow was cast over my seat, and a voice barked, “Move over!” I looked up and saw a very tall, thin—-obviously angry—woman glaring at me. I replied, “If you step back, I will step into the aisle, so you can get into YOUR middle seat.” She then growled at the woman who was sitting next to the window, “I hope you aren’t planning to go the bathroom during the flight, because I don’t like to be disturbed.”

The nice passenger replied, “I can’t promise you that I won’t get up.” However, she was either too  polite or cowed to ask, “What will you do to me if I have to go the bathroom.” At that, I looked for the flight attendant, so I could order an empty coffee can for my seat-mate. However, the flight attendant had gone into hiding as soon as she heard the exchange.

We quickly buckled our seatbelts, and then quickly unbuckled when the pilot announced, “Because of tornados and bad weather heading East, there will be a delay. Then he announced, “The delay will be either for 1/2 an hour or one or two hours.” I shouted, “Do we get a vote?”  After all, it was my birthday.  

The pilot ignored my cries but he then said, “For those of you who want to stretch your legs, you can get off the plane. You can stay or go, but if you get off, you have to take all of your belongings with you—including what’s in the overhead compartments.”

I stayed on the plane, ran around and made some new friends—the smart ones who stayed on the plane. By the time all of the passengers got off and were counted, they were asked to get back on the plane and had to be checked in again. After everyone returned, we waited for another hour. “So,When are we going to leave?” I asked the flight attendant, who had come out of hiding. And she said, “You mean today?”

We finally took off. The middle seat woman was fast asleep, and the woman next to the window had her legs crossed. Our plane was 2 hours late arriving in Miami. However, every good story should have a happy ending.

My American Airline flight from Phoenix arrived at exactly the same time that Josh and Barbara’s American Airline flight from Washington, DC had arrived. Obviously, the bad weather had blown them in the right direction. And, their luggage arrived in Miami on the turnstile next to mine. All 6 suitcases arrived and we piled into a taxi headed for our overnight stay in a Miami hotel. So far so good.

Tomorrow, the ship sails for Cuba.  

To be continued——-

Esther Blumenfeld