Hi.
I figured that since it's been such a long time since my last post, and that post was about toilet paper, I need to write another. I've been rather busy since my previous post. Last week I was in Copenhagen, working and visiting friends. My memory often fails me so I decided to start writing a list of interesting things that happen that I could blog about, so I'm now going to go through that list, so it's all covered. Don't want you to miss out on all the juicy gossip!! So, here goes:
The death of manners
Hmm. I don't remember what this was... I suspect it was airplane incident in Brussels the other week, correct me if I'm wrong... Oh no, it can't be that, because that's further down on my list. Sod it, nobody has manners any more, especially at airports. That's it really. Next!
Treatment of short people
Ok, this may not have anything to do with me being short, but part of Napoleon Complex is that any negative behaviour toward someone of a short stature is automatically thought to be due to being vertically challenged. However, recent research has actually shown that Napoleon Complex is a myth. I'm not down with that, but whatevs.
So, anyhoo, the story is that I'm on my way onboard Brussels Airlines from Brussels to Oslo. I'm the fourth one onto the plane because I'm seated in b.flex economy+ (or something) that allows me to board before the peasants. I see the first three guys board with a friendly 'hello' from the air stewardess. They are tall, businessy-looking chaps, obviously important people. But when I board, I don't get a friendly 'hello' from the stewardess, despite me giving her a friendly 'hello'. No, I get asked what seat I'm in! How rude! Is this because I'm short? Is it because I'm wearing a hoodie? I always wear a hoodie when I travel because the hood can easily be turned into a make-shift pillow. Maybe it's because I don't look businessy enough. Whatever.
Personal space on airplanes
Now this is a good one. On my way to Copenhagen last week I was seated next to a guy (who was a white guy around 50 years old, strawberry blonde hair, similar-coloured moustache - not important but helps set the scene) who was already seated and reading a broad-sheet when I arrived. I told him I was sitting by the window and he kindly got up and let me in (this was a plane with only two seats on either side of the aisle). He then sat down and carried on reading his paper. His right arm (I was on his right, seat 6F) was on the arm rest between us and his newspaper was slightly over the imaginary line between his personal space and mine. Now, I've been a lot of flights. A lot. And my experience is that there is an untold rule that protects people's dignity and prevents elbowing, and that is that nobody 'claims' the middle arm rest. You can use a small portion of it, but definitely no touching the other person, ever.
I apologise that this is a long and tedious story, but I think you'll agree it's of utmost importance for a frequent flyer such as myself.
And this guy didn't just claim the arm rest, he proceeded to touch the sleeve of my hoodie will his sleeve!! The cheek of it!! So I decided to start a silent war. I suspect I was the only one aware of the war, but something had to entertain me for a couple of hours. The war consisted of me retaliating every time we touched sleeves or every time his newspaper went 'over the line'. The retaliation was me placing my magazine over the imaginary line onto his side, thereby blocking at least a couple of inches of his newspaper. Sometimes, when it got really bad, I would even flick his newspaper with my magazine. All this was done in an extremely subtle manner, whereby he would just think I was being rude. Genius, I'd say. I also let a teeny, tiny fart out.
Traditional arrival in Copenhagen
Now this is something that has to be done at any airport. Actually, the tradition was started by my mother (or perhaps it has come through the generations - nobody really knows) and is now fast becoming the done thing when travelling by plane. Note - this may be strange if you're being met by someone at the airport. However, it can be a source of amusement for all parties.
When travelling by plane, there is always an area just outside the exit from baggage reclaim where people wait to greet their loved ones after they've been away. If, like myself, you have no friends (at least not to greet you at the airport), there is a simple way to make yourself feel special. As soon as you exit those doors, and see the mass of people who are not there to see you, search around and spot your 'pretend friend'. Make it appear that he/she is a bit of a distance away. Wave (preferably wildly) to him/her, smile, and then walk off in another direction. Genius. It's particularly fun at Copenhagen because there's always a lot of people waiting to greet friends.
Right, I did have three more list items to cover, but it appears that this takes a lot longer than I had allocated, so I'm going to leave the rest until tomorrow, or another day. But don't let me forget, will you? Because the next three items are ridiculously interesting. And I'd like to talk more about cultural differences, but I keep forgetting what they are.
Take care,
Kajsa.
I figured that since it's been such a long time since my last post, and that post was about toilet paper, I need to write another. I've been rather busy since my previous post. Last week I was in Copenhagen, working and visiting friends. My memory often fails me so I decided to start writing a list of interesting things that happen that I could blog about, so I'm now going to go through that list, so it's all covered. Don't want you to miss out on all the juicy gossip!! So, here goes:
The death of manners
Hmm. I don't remember what this was... I suspect it was airplane incident in Brussels the other week, correct me if I'm wrong... Oh no, it can't be that, because that's further down on my list. Sod it, nobody has manners any more, especially at airports. That's it really. Next!
Treatment of short people
Ok, this may not have anything to do with me being short, but part of Napoleon Complex is that any negative behaviour toward someone of a short stature is automatically thought to be due to being vertically challenged. However, recent research has actually shown that Napoleon Complex is a myth. I'm not down with that, but whatevs.
So, anyhoo, the story is that I'm on my way onboard Brussels Airlines from Brussels to Oslo. I'm the fourth one onto the plane because I'm seated in b.flex economy+ (or something) that allows me to board before the peasants. I see the first three guys board with a friendly 'hello' from the air stewardess. They are tall, businessy-looking chaps, obviously important people. But when I board, I don't get a friendly 'hello' from the stewardess, despite me giving her a friendly 'hello'. No, I get asked what seat I'm in! How rude! Is this because I'm short? Is it because I'm wearing a hoodie? I always wear a hoodie when I travel because the hood can easily be turned into a make-shift pillow. Maybe it's because I don't look businessy enough. Whatever.
Personal space on airplanes
Now this is a good one. On my way to Copenhagen last week I was seated next to a guy (who was a white guy around 50 years old, strawberry blonde hair, similar-coloured moustache - not important but helps set the scene) who was already seated and reading a broad-sheet when I arrived. I told him I was sitting by the window and he kindly got up and let me in (this was a plane with only two seats on either side of the aisle). He then sat down and carried on reading his paper. His right arm (I was on his right, seat 6F) was on the arm rest between us and his newspaper was slightly over the imaginary line between his personal space and mine. Now, I've been a lot of flights. A lot. And my experience is that there is an untold rule that protects people's dignity and prevents elbowing, and that is that nobody 'claims' the middle arm rest. You can use a small portion of it, but definitely no touching the other person, ever.
I apologise that this is a long and tedious story, but I think you'll agree it's of utmost importance for a frequent flyer such as myself.
And this guy didn't just claim the arm rest, he proceeded to touch the sleeve of my hoodie will his sleeve!! The cheek of it!! So I decided to start a silent war. I suspect I was the only one aware of the war, but something had to entertain me for a couple of hours. The war consisted of me retaliating every time we touched sleeves or every time his newspaper went 'over the line'. The retaliation was me placing my magazine over the imaginary line onto his side, thereby blocking at least a couple of inches of his newspaper. Sometimes, when it got really bad, I would even flick his newspaper with my magazine. All this was done in an extremely subtle manner, whereby he would just think I was being rude. Genius, I'd say. I also let a teeny, tiny fart out.
Traditional arrival in Copenhagen
Now this is something that has to be done at any airport. Actually, the tradition was started by my mother (or perhaps it has come through the generations - nobody really knows) and is now fast becoming the done thing when travelling by plane. Note - this may be strange if you're being met by someone at the airport. However, it can be a source of amusement for all parties.
When travelling by plane, there is always an area just outside the exit from baggage reclaim where people wait to greet their loved ones after they've been away. If, like myself, you have no friends (at least not to greet you at the airport), there is a simple way to make yourself feel special. As soon as you exit those doors, and see the mass of people who are not there to see you, search around and spot your 'pretend friend'. Make it appear that he/she is a bit of a distance away. Wave (preferably wildly) to him/her, smile, and then walk off in another direction. Genius. It's particularly fun at Copenhagen because there's always a lot of people waiting to greet friends.
Right, I did have three more list items to cover, but it appears that this takes a lot longer than I had allocated, so I'm going to leave the rest until tomorrow, or another day. But don't let me forget, will you? Because the next three items are ridiculously interesting. And I'd like to talk more about cultural differences, but I keep forgetting what they are.
Take care,
Kajsa.
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