I'm flying to Savannah to meet Marc at our new vacation/rental home. (Due to work schedules, he was able to go yesterday.) I couldn't get a nonstop flight at a good price, so I'm going to Atlanta where I have a connection to a Savannah flight.
As I type this on my iPad (for posting later--in airplane mode now, of course), I am waiting out a mystery. The flight attendant, Javier, has a lovely accent, but his accent was enough for me to be unclear as to whether dinner is beet salad or beef salad. Either may turn out to be interesting from a culinary point of view, but I honestly don't know what to expect, despite hearing him say it several times as he addressed me and the nearby passengers (and told us that he was sorry but it--whatever it is--is the only thing available today).
But at least this is a distraction from the guy across the way who has spent the entire flight, thus far, playing solitaire with real cards and shuffling the damn things loudly several times before each hand. That may sound minor, but after a while, the urge to beat him with the drink cart sounds reasonable!
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Update: Beef it is. Really, three small pieces of roast beef with some dressing. It'll do!
