All is well.

A woman is crying to someone on the phone when I reach my seat. “Are you going to be alright Eric asks her. [2h 23 min and welcome aboard] “I brought three suitcases and they are not going to let me on the bus.” Bus!? She’s crying because the bus company will not allow her to bring an extra bag? The fool who is pacifying her promises to pick her up. She stops crying to say she spent over $200 at Dillard’s and that she needs to get a job. A screaming kid screams yet …[Number 2 for departure. Flight attendants please prepare the cabin for departure.] again.

I decided to opt out being radio scanned yet again. [ Position and hold]. Spooling up and away we go. 12345678910,1121314151617181920212223242526272829,30 rotate and this plane does fly.]. Michele is annoyed watching me being massaged. I tell her to go have breakfast. “No.” Of course she says. “It’s all right,I tell her”. This is also a test for them. If they tell me to go because I’m a frequent flyer then they are not doing their job. The TSA passes the test. I feel more secure knowing that they don’t play favorites. How did I end up in that line of the TSA is not unusual. The black lady yelling out instructions to the sheep on the cue took my boarding pass, struck two lines on it and pointed like a Pointer without saying a word to me. I wasn’t sure if she wanted me to stop at the employee entrance and I didn’t want to ask.

[110 miles to go. ]. 1402

Very nice crew lead by Eric!

Unlike Columbia’s eatery at the TPA airport. Columbia Restaurant Cafe at TPA

“Madam could you put a seatbelt around him? We’re about to land.”

[Brooklyn @ 1418]

Back to the restaurant at the E terminal. I don’t know what Michèle told Jessica the runner of meals at Columbia. I had just been given a massage by the TSA free of charge that wasn’t pleasant. I don’t understand why they think they’re going to dissuade me from opting out of being radio scanned every time I’m selected for additional screening. I always agree to do it in public so that the passengers see the TSA in action. I applaud the effort, even though they know my clearance.

By the time I return to the restaurant/eatery from the bathroom nothing has arrived. The choices for soup were bean soup A or bean soup B. I had already experienced a very unpleasant flight going to the head, many times, on the way to Jerusalem. The day before Michele had given me Black Bean Soup. Since that day I avoid bean soup xyz, like the plague.

The bread arrived, I’m still incensed that I have to eat lunch so early after having had breakfast at 0900. M. had skipped breakfast. More than 10 minutes have passed and our flight is within 10- 20 minutes from boarding. “Oh, honey it hasn’t been 10 minutes since you ordered. I have my eyes on your meal.” She tells M. Honey? Sorry but in not “miel” this morning. I’d rather relax at the gate reading a book and people watching the minutes away.

Finally the meal arrives M. Is having the Bean soup and I’m willing to help her eat the plate of yellow rice with a medley of meats. Looks Chinese! Jessica brings a tiny plate for me. M. Is getting exasperated. I take a small portion to begin while M. finishes drinking her soup.

M. finishes her soup, takes the whole plate of Chinese medley meal to her side. “Are you not going to eat anymore?” She (M.) asks. I’m not going to bring my fork from across the table to her side to grab a bite. “Ask her to give you another plate.” No, M. takes the small plate under her soup bowl. It’s coated with bean soup. It’s already 20 minutes to departure and we’re still eating. “Let’s get going, we can’t wait anymore for Jessica to bring us any more plates. She’s still running around dropping food off. She brings a styrofoam container for the remaining Chinese medley, takes all the utensils from the table. What am I going to use to transfer the food? J. brings a set of utensils, and she bows to me. I guess I’m royalty now. This is uncalled for. That’s when I pay attention to her name and looks. She’s of Spanish descent, with long curly dirty blond hair about one inch taller than I if we were standing naked facing each other. M. is worried that I might cause a scene. No not a scene, I want to see the manager. The bartender has disappeared and so have the other runners. J. brings the check. We pay cash leave a substantial tip which she picks up with the receipt and quickly walks away. I wait for a minute to confirm with J. If she is the only one named by that name. She claims to be the only Jessica on October 6, 2015 at 11:45 A.M.

We arrive at the gate and our names are being paged. Different seats for the two of us. I’m glad to have a row to myself at the emergency exit when I hear a woman wailing to her husband/ lover that they had her check a bag…

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