There was a time in my life when I was a very frequent flyer. I can relate to the guy in the story, who made a ritual of counting rows to the nearest exit. After a over decade and hundreds of thousands of miles, you begin to get a little superstitious, like your number is up. I’ve actually been on that flight, numerous times. One of them was the roughest flight I’ve ever experienced. The quiet of the passengers was eerie, you’d think there would be screaming, but no, just lots of pale faces and white knuckles on the armrests. Got to hold hands with a lingerie model, flying back home from a photo shoot though, lol. Still remember her name, some sense of heightened reality due to the circumstances. The overhead bins were flying open. I remember a comical thought, that the old Bugs Bunny cartoon about “air brakes” had the sound effects spot on.
I liked the account of the lady with seemingly nine lives...
One should be kept aware of her travel and whereabouts as to stay a million miles away from her location!...lol