The air is SO terribly dry in airplanes.
The little kettle beside her had fallen asleep with his mouth open, and his head almost dropped on her shoulder. But Fiona managed to prevent that, using a fork she had found in her handbag, pinching it between his head and his shoulder so the head would stay upright
.very good.
30 minutes later, they reach the ground. People start trickling out of the airplane. Fiona waits until the worst is over, then gets up gracefully. "Excuse me, sir, would you mind passing me my luggage out of the storage"
: Fiona asks a grey haired man in front of her, ignoring the little kettle who is jumping up and down, screaming: "I can help you, I can help you!!"
"Sure, my lady." The man balances her -heart shaped, don't ask me why- handbag out of the rack.
The kettle stops jumping, disappointed. They move out of the airplane.
..."Seriously!" Fiona is furious -
it seems like her luggage has not arrived. She is talking to a lady behind a counter: "I CAN'T believe this is happening. My hairstraightener was in there. And some other important, very important items."
"I am very sorry, that sometimes happens - please would you mind to fill out that form here....."
The trouble with Fiona is, she would have never, ever came to a place like Buenos Aires. But she had to. She commited a severe crime at home, and JUST managed to get into the plane.
She is a very fine lady, but she also likes a very fine lifestyle. Her antecedents built up a big company, which had just gone bankrupt. It was a phone company. A very antique phone company. Her grandfather believed, that the smartphones were just a trend and that sooner or later the people would get back to the old phones with the turntables, but no. That - as yet- never happend, and now they had severe liquidity problems and the creditors were banging on their doors to get their money back.
Well. Suddenly, things had to happen quickly and Fiona stuffed all the money that was left inside a suitcase, without thinking too much. Then she jumped into the first cab available to the airport.
but now, the suitcase was apparently lost.
So everything for nothing - it seemed, and of course, she was very, very, angry. She starts hissing at the poor lady, jumps up the counter, trying to scratch through her face - since she is a cat - but the lady is protected through a glass window and Fiona manages to control herself.
No point in that.
She takes a deep breath. Head high up she marches through the arrivals hall, aiming for the bathroom, the little kettle running after her, out of breath, pulling his -safely arrived- trolley. (He ALWAYS only travels with trolley. "It's better for the back" he usually explains proudly.)
Eventually she turns around, shouting: "What!!"
At the poor kettle, who only wants to help...
but let's see what happens in the bathroom.
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Comfortably, Fiona is sitting in her window seat.
She is slightly annoyed because absolutely NO ONE here at the airport seems to be competent, but well, that is nothing new of course.
She rolls her eyes, looking out of the window, observing a man in an orange vest who seems to be screaming something to someone doing weird sign language.
All primitive retards, ahh. hmm. Stewardesses are hectically running up and down the corridor, throwing luggage in the upper cabins, and telling people to put their seats straight and the tables up.
Fiona tries to not get impacted by those "negative vibes", and listens to some "drizzly nature sounds" on her little mp3 player.
A bit later, the machine is ready to take off and the engines start. She leans back, closes her eyes for a bit. The plane gains speed and the engine sounds swell, and then with a little lift in her stomach, they lose ground. Sun in her face, nice, warm, tinkly feeling -even though she can't stand the material of the airplane seats- it is enjoyable - until someone starts bumping on her arm which was lying relaxed on the armrest, again and again and AGAIN.
She turns her head to the side. A little, fat kettle is on the edge of popping out his far too tight seat and flying through the entire plane corridor, showing a devastated face expression and in his despair holding on to the armrests. Fiona rolls her eyes.
There is ALWAYS something. "God, put the seatbelt on, how stupid can you be"
"It is - not - not - possible -" the kettle presses out, all red in his face out of effort to keep himself inside the seat.
Fiona rolls her eyes "seriously, how fat can you be, wait" she reaches around the kettle, grabs the seatbelt, loosens it to the maximum and manages to fix it around his waist.
He gasps, totally out of breath, "Thank you - thank you- really- I could not have held myself like that for the entire flight, puuh, you must be sent by god, thank you" Fiona rolls her eyes, "God, really. Ever thought of not flying or maybe booking two seats?? It is irresponsible." The kettle looks absolutely miserable "yes, yes- you are right... I'm very sorry..." "whatever" Fiona rolls her eyes and looks out of the window again, the poor kettle still looking miserable.