Bon Voyage!

My 16th trip to Europe for cycling was accomplished in 4 steps: car transfer to SFO, flight from SFO to Charlotte, flight from Charlotte to CDG in Paris, then take the TGV to Nimes. Almost 30 hours in transit.

The easiest and most comfortable leg was supposed to be the Business Class flight across the ‘pond’. It was on American Airlines, and I was curious to see how this would compare to my previous experiences on Air France and KLM.

I was sitting pleasantly ensconced in my window seat of the 4 across cabin, when an older couple boarded and were dismayed to find that their assigned seats were not right next to each other. As I was looking at my phone a middle aged woman, who turned out to be the couple’s daughter, politely said “Excuse me sir”, and asked if I would mind changing seats so her parents could see each other during the flight.

There were a couple of reasons for me to say no. I had already organized my seating area and started saving some ‘favorite’ movies to help me get through the flight. Also my seat had my shoulder against the fuselage and my feet angled toward the aisle. It also had a simple lap seatbelt. The seat I was asked to move to was configured the opposite way with my shoulder on the aisle and my feet angled toward the window. And because of the direction it faced I would be required to wear a lap and shoulder belt instead of the lap belt, which was less comfortable.

I had deliberately chosen this seat months ago, and I was well within my rights to refuse to move. Instead I agreed, packed up my stuff and made the switch, thinking this act of kindness would give me good Karma for the trip. Karma soon made its entrance…

One of the many nice things about business class is that you board first, and they serve you a beverage while you wait for the plane to fill up. They usually offer champagne, water and orange juice. Guess which one I choose.

The cabin steward entered carrying a tray with full glasses of champagne. He offered one to the old guy who was now occupying my former seat. As the steward turned toward me he somehow lost his balance and sent 5 full glasses of champagne cascading into my cubicle, drenching my shirt and pants and seat.

The steward was mortified and ran off and returned with some napkins, but he underestimated the degree of the drenching; I was soaked. Napkins were kind of a feebIe gesture. I asked him what I should do now? How am I going to get through an 8 hour flight soaking wet and smelling like a winery?

I had a change of clothes in my carry on bag, which I usually don’t have. Ever try to change clothes in an airplane bathroom? Not easy even in business class. And I didn’t have a change of underwear in the bag, so my choice was to go damp or commando. I’ll let you guess.

Back at my cubicle, I had to stand up because my seat was so wet and I didn’t want to get my dry clothes un-dry. The steward assured me there was someone coming to give me a dry seat cover, and finally a technician showed up and replaced it. I’m pretty sure the foam underneath, which was not replaced, was still damp, but it didn’t penetrate the new cover and my bottom stayed dry.

When I finally sat down the apologetic steward asked if there was anything he could do. Since I had missed my champagne, I asked for a vodka and ice, STAT. And he said he couldn’t serve me because we were too close to takeoff! I’m already mad, and this was beyond the pale.

I finally got my vodka much later during the normal pre-dinner cocktail service, and the drencher did offer me a double. I was tempted but decided to stick with my moderation plan and demurred.

Near the end of the flight, a very pretty woman (I noticed, so call me sexist and sue me or dox me) said she was the head flight attendant and she wanted to apologize personally. She said Charles (the spiller) was so very very sorry. She had noted that I drank Malbec with dinner and offered me a bottle as a goodwill gesture. I thanked her and declined because I didn’t really have room for it in my bags but I appreciated the thought.

Then Charles the Drencher came over to apologize yet again, and he thanked me for being so composed and understanding during the incident. I was kind of surprised by this since I know I was fuming and extremely irritated and I had to have been scowling. But I didn’t raise my voice or swear or call anyone an idiot or klutz or worse. He said not everyone would have behaved so reasonably and he was grateful.

So Karma hit me in the face with 5 glasses of champagne, but maybe the payback came on the rest of the trip where the weather was perfect and I felt great off the bike and okay on it. At the end of the trip I made a visit to the Duomo in Milan, and lit two sets of prayer candles in gratitude and for continued safe cycling in the future. ‘Seat Change Karma’ needs to up its game a bit though.