Tiny New York Kitchen's Culinary Adventures Part I
Got to JFK at about 8:30pm and checked in. My husband forces the BA agent to check our bags all the way to Paris. With some resistance they do it as they realize that they really don’t want to deal with an angry Mr. G. We make our way to the First Class lounge and get served a decent little dinner. We move over to the sofa area where I see a very large man with 2 young Asian women with him. My husband is busy dealing with some tech issue with his phone. I point out the big guy, with the young women trailing behind him, who keeps getting up and grabbing numerous bags of chips. They follow him back and forth to the chip area giggling. My husband looks up and says, “looks like H.W.’s (biggest Hollywood producer) brother.” I point out that H.W. does indeed have a brother…duh. We chuckle and go about hanging out. We pre-board the plane and get situated in our respective pods. First leg of the trip is to London. Oh yeah here comes the big guy and his “friends.” I just realize that it actually IS H.W. I elbow my husband and we both make a mutual ewwww face at one another.
We are served various snacks and drinks and H.W. is practically eating the First Class cabin out of house and home. Time to go to sleep so a crew member makes up my bed. I get a few hours of sleep and then wake up to being super parched. I get up and toddle to the WC when I see that H.W. has moved to the pod behind me and is sleeping soundly. His t-shirt must have shrunk because it didn’t come close to covering his severely overdue gestation. Oy…. what an unwanted sight.
We finally land at Heathrow and have to take a tram to our gate where we sit in another First Class lounge for Air France and various other airlines. I haven’t seen this many full burkas in one place since being in Indonesia last October. I venture out and find the nearest Boots so I can get my illicit allotment of Day and Night Nurse which I think is the BEST cold medicine ever made. Every time I travel to or through London I make a point to load up on these meds and then hoard them like they are fine wine back in New York. If my husband is on a business trip through London I make him get the limit to bring back as well. Sometimes I even force him to purchase eyelash dye for my good friend Leslie who lives in Greenwich. Poor Mr. G. He’s a good boy.
Time to pre-board the Air France flight to Paris. We find our seats and mon dieu there is so much cologne walking down the isle that it’s hard to take. My husband and I look at one another and crack up. Everyone finally takes his or her seat and the guy behind me, who keeps kicking my seat, must have spilled the entire bottle of cologne on him while the guy in front of me hasn’t had a shower for about a week. I don’t know which is worse. Too much cologne or body odor of the ripest kind. This is First Class for goodness sake. What the heck?!
We get our petite snack delivered to our tray tables and I poke at mine. Hmmmm…. Interesting assortment. I steal the plastic wine glasses for later road trip picnics, which I am known for. To be honest I don’t think stealing is quite the right word as I’m sure they just go into the trash.
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