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female Flight Desperation


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This happened pre-COVID but I just thought about it and thought you would all enjoy this.

Back in 2017, I made the decision to go on a trip through Hungary, Austria, and Slovakia completely on a whim and alone. I say on a whim, but it was actually very much planned out. I did not, however, tell my family I was going until about two weeks from the departure date as I needed a ride to the airport. I didn't want to pay for parking, you see.

The trip itself was amazing. I love travelling through Europe and cannot wait to go back as soon as possible. I walked all over the places I had decided to go, used public transit (yes that's exciting when you don't have any where you live), and even took a boat down the Danube. Honestly, it was probably one of the best vacations I had ever been on, but I thoroughly believe that was because I didn't have any of my family around to spoil it for me. 

While the trip itself was rather uneventful from the urination standpoint, the trip back was anything but. 

On the flight back, I got seated next to a woman from some country which used the Cyrillic alphabet (Russia? Belarus? Bulgaria?) I tried to figure out where she was from, but to no avail. The only English she knew was 'Help' which she spelled phonetically using the Cyrillic alphabet. Not helpful at all to me, I'm afraid. But she asked for help, so I was going to help her. And we had a 10 hour flight ahead of us and her TV screen wasn't working.

First thing I taught her was how to order drinks. It's always helpful to stay hydrated on a long flight and she was an older woman thus making her more prone to dehydration. So the drink cart came around and we both ordered an orange juice. I tried to teach her more English words and phrases, but only succeeded in teaching her how to say "Good Morning," "Good Night," "Hi," and "Bye." I'm not an English teacher, so I thought I did pretty good. 

Dinner came around and I helped her figure out which one she wanted to get. And another orange juice. Then we worked on learning more food words, which honestly went much easier than greetings, mostly because we had the food sitting in front of us. 

Then the drink cart started coming around in earnest. I swear, the drink cart was passing us probably every hour on the hour. I stopped ordering after the fifth time because I didn't want to have to go on the plane, but my row-mate had gotten into the swing of things. Every time the drink cart came around, she ordered another orange juice. 

10 hours later, neither of us had gotten up to use the toilet. I was fine, but like I said, I had stopped drinking a while ago. My poor row-mate, on the other hand, had not. By the time it was all said and done, I swear this poor woman must have had 15 cups of orange juice over the course of a few hours. 

Seatbelt sign on as we began our final approach into Chicago, this poor woman is squirming in earnest, desperation oozing from every pore. She pointed at the toilet door (which now had no line by it and said something. I have no idea what she said, but I was fairly certain she was going to get up to go to the toilet. I shook my head no and pointed to the seatbelt light. She then looked frantically at the toilet, then at the seatbelt light, then made up her mind.

Pushing herself up and gingerly climbing over me, she slowly made her way down to the toilet squirming as she went. Judging by her movements, she was very near to losing it before she finally made it into the toilet and closed the door. The flight attendants asked her to return to her seat as soon as she exited the toilet (looking muuuuch more comfortable) and she calmly walked back to where we were sitting. Once we disembarked, I witnessed her running to the toilet once more and have no doubt in my mind that that continued for a while.

I must admit, while utterly inadvertent, it was quite amusing to watch someone potty dance through the plane and know you had a hand in it.

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