En route but
stationary. An Austrian Airlines jet is moving itself slowly into
position on the run way down before me. There are a dozen such planes out
there. I am on an Austrian plain, of flat ground here away from the
peaks, not far from Vienna about to board a plane to take me back to
Beijing. The Austrian Airlines lady at the counter with flaming red hair
to match her flaming red dress and tights and shoes has just confirmed.
The next announcement will come in 45 minutes. (53 mins and counting she
ain’t said a thing) “There appears to be mechanical trouble.
Sorry.” Oh. That could be 45-minute problem or a 4 to 5 hour
problem. At least I’m here and I don’t have much of any connection to
worry about.
This lounge here, is quite pleasant We have the view
of the airport which I have suggested is broad an sweeping, full of red plane
logos. The vibe inside is quite. Perhaps not unlike Japan. I
tried to wish my daughter good night about four hours ago and got a hairy
Austrian eye-ball from a guy who looked severe. I went out into the
hallway where the Austrian Air ladies sat to welcome folks to the lounge.
They too clarified that this was not the right place to talk, audibly. (How
else does one talk?) “There, sir, is our private room.” Well,
OK. There was only myself and there was no one inside. This
actually worked. well.
Later when I was inside being scrupulously quite the dude
two chairs down picked up his phone and started yapping in German. “Vell
zen,” this was my chance to unveil my hirsute cornea. “Yo man, why you be
talkin?” He didn’t seem especially impressed with my Flavor Flav
sneer. When he picked up his call a second time I picked up mine in
unison and made up a conversation in perfect cadence with his, affirming,
rejecting and generally mocking him to an imaginary friend. He didn’t
notice.
It’s not exactly Italy, but the Austrians put on a nice
little spread here in the lounge. It is certainly better than what’s
available at the Hong Qiao Airport. Most assuredly better than any
airport in the U.S.A. There’s an unlimited supply of my favorite Austrian
bev, Gruner Ventliner, which helps to make the delay and the down time and the
people talking audibly even though you aren’t talking audibly, somewhat
softened and accelerated.
On the flight up from Venice, we had a lady with a southern
Chinese accent in front of us. Aww man, but she was loud. Yapping
and yapping and it was worse as I could understand most of what she was
saying. She gave her kid her phone and let him play computer games,
audibly for all to hear. We were on our way in. We’d be landing
soon. And this noise from his facile game was driving me bird shit. “I’ll
let it ride.” I told myself as the plane’s deceleration accelerated. I
practiced my lines in my head. I’d ask her to turn the volume down.
She’d say “Hey, you speak Chinese. Hey
cousin Fred, will you look at that? This foreigner speaks Chinese. Ask him something.” and want to start a “Alvie-Singer-in-line-like
conversation and I’d be pulled into a chat unwittingly. I said nothing. And stewed and tried to
read and get over it. To the virgin
Chinese traveler considering my bitchy tale: please be mindful of volumes when
you travel abroad. It’s your right to behave, as you will, back
home. But noise pollution can be noxious overseas.
Monday, 03/20/17
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