the scoot flight i am now on has been having turbulence, which gives good opportunity for eating. i have eaten 250gm of strawberries, a ‘snail’ pastry, and a chocolate-peanut odwall granola bar undetected, because i eat when the cabin crew is confined to their jailor’s seats.
the thin, weathered Chinese man across the aisle was told off: “No Outside Food”, and perhaps he was unhumiliated as he stuffed his food item into his mouth and accepted the stewardess’ unironic offer to throw the crinkly plastic bag away.
seven hours is such a long flight that i’ve read the Purple Rain New Yorker issue from cover to cover. it is 6.08pm, just an hour ago i checked my watch, just ten hours ago i learned my grandfather, my father’s father, had moved on to a different plane of existence.
later: in the past five minutes, the scoot stewardess with huge gums and prominent makeup has chided two men back into their seats: a white-haired Caucasian, a grey-haired but older Chinese man, who’s been spotted as taking frequent standing + stoning breaks. she has also knocked on the door of an occupied toilet stall to hurry along/shame the woman inside, whose hair was also a dyed bob.
minutes or maybe hours ago, these two women interacted over the meals menu, the standing stewardess informing her seated passenger that, until the seatbelt sign was off, cabin service could not resume.