I watched in horror as the battery indicator on my IPOD starting flashing, a warning of impending doom.

Not normally such a big deal, but I sit here on my 8.5 hour overnight flight from London to Moscow in not such good shape.

Things were going smooth as I made sense of the bizarre windy, smoke-filled, departures lounge in the Moscow airport. Herds of Asian people had set up mats made from newspapers where they carefully parked their shoes on the edge and sat cross-legged arguing about God knows what. I found my gate, and the 2 beautiful, mini-skirted “security” women waved me through the metal detector without a hitch. A far cry from the AK47 I assumed would be stuck in my bottom if anything went wrong.

I climbed on board and to my surprise, the AeroFlot plane was emmaculate, clean, modern, no chickens running up and down the walkway, etc. Reality came crashing down hard when I realized who my seat-mate in 11D would be.


Not that I have anything against Russian people, they are actually very friendly, but this one happened to be a 1 year old baby – sat in the lap of his tired looking mother. From the time that they sat down, I knew this was not going to be a sane flight for me. Dimtriv was beyond the age of when babies are cute and useful, he had now grown into a wiggling, kicking, crying larvae of sorts and had no intentions of leaving me alone. If he was not kicking me, he was throwing his socks at me (which smelled like pickles) or jabbing one chubby finger up his nostril looking for something. He caught me at a weak moment, already jetlagged and exhausted, so I nearly cried.

I would rather have sat between 2 sumo wrestlers. Dimitriv’s mother spoke no English so I did my best to get their names in Russian, where they were from, etc…before Dimitrivs super-powered lungs drowned out our converstion. To make matters worse, somewhere over Siberia he thought it would be prudent to shite his diapers, and everyone on the plane seemed to notice the smell but his mother. Rather than change him, she popped a bottle of yellowish liquid into his mouth which when he coughed, went all over my arm. I pray it was formula.

My one escape from the madness was the IPOD which I kept at deafening volumes. I will always remember hearing Oasis fade away and then Dimitriv’s desperate wails for attention.
I almost kissed the pilot, the ground, and the security guards when we finally landed in Beijing 9 hours later.

Maybe its not too late for that cubicle job after all? 🙂

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