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Nativity

Friday, November 23, 2018

Thanksgiving in Transit


On Thanksgiving Day I traveled home from Mexico City to Cleveland, Ohio via Houston.  I figured that it would be a quiet day for air travel, and although my flight from Mexico City was full, everything went smoothly and on schedule.  Passing through immigration and customs in Houston was a breeze.  I doubt if more than fifteen minutes had passed from the time that I got off the plane until I left customs.  

I was, however, slightly annoyed by the lady sitting next to me on the flight from Mexico City.  She was a Mexican lady, perhaps my age or older, with an air of entitlement.  I do not know If she had never flown on an airplane before, or if she felt that rules did not apply to an upper class "señora".  She kept her large purse on her lap through the entire flight instead of putting it under the seat in front of her.  ( Before take off and landing, I kept expecting a flight attendant to tell her to stow the purse, but they never seemed to look in her direction as they passed down the aisle.)  She had her tray table partially lowered so that she could drape her shawl across it.  Then, as we were taxiing, she pulled out her cell phone to answer a call.  "No se permite," I said. (It is not allowed.)  After I said it a second time, she put the phone away.  I then told her that her tray table had to put up.  I was tempted to add that her purse should be put under the seat in front of her, but I left it at that.  She was probably thinking that I was some crabby "gringo", while the schoolteacher in me was thinking, "Weren't you paying attention when they announced the rules in Spanish?"  When beverages were served, she could barely lower her tray all the way because of the purse in her lap.  Every time that she rifled through her purse, she jiggled the tray.  I half expected the cup of tea that she had ordered to spill all over me.  In fact, some of the tea did spill onto her tray.

During my layover in Houston, I planned to have lunch.  The restaurants in that area of the terminal did not really appeal to me.  I finally settled on a place that advertised itself as Vietnamese - Cajun cuisine.  It was one of those places where the menu is on a screen on the table.  You select what you want and pay for it by swiping your credit card.  I ordered General Tao's chicken.  It wasn't particularly good.  A tip of 18% was automatically added to the bill.  Well, I always prefer to give the tip in cash.  Although I always tip generously, I couldn't help but wonder, why should the server get 18% when most of his / her job (taking the order, bringing the bill, and taking the payment) has been done electronically?

I guess I sound like an old curmudgeon.  Perhaps I am grumpy because I wish I were still in Mexico.

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