Text 18966, 70 rader
Skriven 2014-11-05 21:01:00 av MICHAEL LOO (1:123/140)
Ärende: Aug trip 213
====================
US3308 CHS PHL 0640 0830 E75 3A

The 0500 shuttle was full of crew plus me. It got us to the
airport in jig time, and getting boarding passes and going
through security took just a couple minutes (this time the
TSA people were friendly and polite; I guess they tend to be
in these smaller and more relaxed stations); I could have
taken the 0530 shuttle, but what the hey, I was up anyhow.

The aircraft and crew were the same. We boarded at the new
gate B1. How new? We'd deplaned the previous day from the
old gate B1, now closed (the airport is undergoing pretty
serious renovations at the moment). The FA who had been
working the front on the last flight was in coach on this
one; she walked past me with no eye contact, which made me
think that my already dubious skills with the opposite sex
have taken a serious dive. Halfway through the flight she
came up, gave me a punch on the arm, and made some
inconsequential small talk, which made me feel slightly
better.

I thought of trying for an earlier flight but instead
visited my friends at the club. They reminded me that it was
Sunday, and they couldn't sell me booze until 11, by which
time I'd be long gone. I chatted a bit with the bartender,
identified the Guess the Airport photo on MilePoint, and
eventually went over to my gate.

US1804 PHL BOS 1115 1230 E90 2F

When I boarded there was a gent in my seat. On establishing
that he really belonged in the aisle seat, I just sat there
instead, obviating the need for him to unjam his huge
carryon from its hiding place.

The flight took off around on time and landed a bit early.
Service was provided by a genial enough but somewhat
abstracted attendant who didn't start the drink service
until halfway through the flight and didn't provide the
snack basket until about 15 before landing. Lessens catering
costs by a couple bucks, I guess.

One of my friends in Boston had end-stage brain cancer.
I had e-mailed them recently about their upcoming 50th
anniversary - there was going to be a grand old party,
and we hoped she'd make it there. Her husband Dave the
violist said that they weren't going to make that and
warned me that I'd best show up right away, as this would
likely be the last time I would get to see her. Well, I'd
acquired this cold, so I called from the airport to see if
I should show up. The husband said that it was fine, as
she was not expected to last much longer no matter what. 

So I showed up, fortified with a couple tots from the United
Club's whiskey supply. It was sad to see someone who until
recently was so dynamic so clearly at the end of the line.
She was largely unresponsive by the time I got there.
Her daughter and son-in-law had been taking care of her,
and Dave and they communicated with her mostly by touch -
he said that when he kissed her she made motions to kiss
him back, so there was something still working inside. I
went into her room and made my presence known, making brief
small talk and finally asking her if she needed anything.
With what seemed to be great effort she barely rocked her
head side to side. I told her to take care of herself and
left. 

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