The Mysterious Woman on the Plane

When Mama Mia and I checked into our flight in Indy, the US Airways customer service commented on how we were not seated together on our flight to Italy.  We said we would like to be seated together if possible and he said yes...he could put us in an exit row.

Little did we know the ramifications this would cause.

First of all, we got to board in Zone 1 directly after all the important people.  This meant, while we were not as important as some, we were more important than most, and that made us feel (stupidly) good.  Zone 1 happy thoughts.

Yes, it was an exit row.  It was also by the two restrooms in the center of the plane.  Which had bright lights that would shine into our eyes whenever they were opened.  Which was often.  Also, everyone who wanted to go to the restroom would decide that they didn't like the restroom on their side of the plane and so would switch to our side of the plan by walking between us and the wall that was about a foot and a half in front of us.  I was awoken more than once by someone mumbling an apology as they climbed over the couple sitting next to us and us.  Grand Central Station it was.  For all 9 hours of the flight.

We had no window, being in the center of the plane.  Our trays were stowed in the arms of our seats and our movie screens were tucked away under our seats using the good old college up and over desk method.  All that was okay.  Things on the flight were normal for a few hours.  We ate our pasty dinner of pasta or chicken (me:  pasta / MM:  chicken).  I watched Iron Man III.  Mom watched an episode of Bones.  Then, as the time wore on, sort of how I imagine things are when the patients in insane asylums are left to their own devices for too long, things started getting crazy.

First of all, everyone around us decided to get drunk and loud at different times and just when it was time to go to sleep.  The two couples behind us traded stories of their escapades in Italy and decided they were best friends and even wanted to split a bottle of champagne.  Thank goodness the flight attendant said they didn't have that.  They got so loud at one point that I pulled the "I'm traveling with my sainted mother" card and turned around and said (nicely) "Is it possible for you guys to talk a little softer?  My mother is trying to sleep."  

My mother turned to me:  "You didn't have to bring me into this."  

"Sorry.  I was desperate."  But it seemed to work.  They calmed down and we started to slumber.

Then, the mysterious couple next to us decided they were in love, very happy, very funny, very drunk, and very amorous all at the same time.  

They were in love:  she cuddled with him and crooned in his ear.

They were very happy and very funny:  they talked and laughed loudly and happily.

They were very drunk:  the lady had a hard time operating the restroom door, leaving it open to shine brightly in my face.

They were very amorous.

So, by this time I was kind of at my wits end.  I was tired.  I was grumpy.  My knees hurt like nobody's business.  Nothing was going to restore my spirits to the carefree traveler who had boarded the plane earlier.

Except what happened next.

We were both awake and the mysterious woman sitting next to mom OUT OF THE BLUE decided to impart a message to mom.  She leaned in, then wrapped an arm around mom.  Mom leaned in thinking that the woman was going to tell her something and in stead, THAT AMOROUS WOMAN KISSED MY MOTHER.  On the cheek, but still!  I looked at mom.  Mom looked at me.  

"Did that just happen?"

"Yes."

"Don't look at me.  I'm going to laugh."

And we did.  And for the rest of the flight every time we'd look at each other we'd burst out in hysterics.  Because who the hell kisses strangers on flights?

The Mysterious Woman!  That's who!