Outbound journey friendships

Although much of our recent trip to the UK was spent doing separate things, there were a number of times in which I had the joy of Mother's company. Such as the flight. As soon as we boarded, I rushed off to the loo while Mother deliberated which seat she wanted and why she didn't want the one she was allocated. N.B. We were seated more or less in the middle of the plane, causing discomfort for Mother for numerous reasons; 

1) it takes too long to be served by the air stewards

2) she is equidistance from screaming children

3) she is close to the wing... and apparently people don't like this...

4) she is close to the emergency exit doors, meaning she may, at any time, be roped in to save lives

5) the plane might snap in half.

So, as I head back towards our seats, I notice Mother has already ambushed the female passenger on her right. I quietly approach and try to slip in unnoticed (I then realised that this is an impossibility. It bothers me greatly how, if sitting in the window seat, I have to majorly disrupt two passengers.) 

"Darling! This is FRANKI! We've just met!"

Obviously.

I politely smile and introduce myself before Mother whips up the conversation again. 

This is a horrible situation because once you begin a conversation with your fellow passenger on board a flight, it then determines the remainder of your journey. You cannot simply say after ten minutes; "right, well I've had enough chit chat, can we stop talking now please and sit in awkward silence, millimetres away from each other, for the next 2 hours?" 

No. You have to keep the conversation going. NIGHTMARE. I discovered this years ago and therefore very rarely strike up a conversation until I'm at least half an hour away from landing. Strategy, you see. Something Mother does not have during travel.

I silently thank God that I remembered my noise-cancelling headphones and get to work on my very important nap. Noise-cancelling headphones were slightly mismarketed. I can still hear Mother telling Franki her life story... occasionally catching parts of my name. Franki now probably knows my life story too.  

I, strategically (take note), 'wake up' about fifteen minutes before landing to the discovery that both Mother and Franki are laughing away with their little plastic cups of brandy. Personally, I do not care for spirits at 10am but each to their own.  

Disembarking, Mother and Franki part *sob sob - they are now obviously BFFs* and Mother gives me the 411 on Franki (in great detail, as usual). 

xoxo