Heading to Brazil to watch a World Cup game.
The trip begins in the American Airlines lounge and memories of sitting here with Anne 4 years ago before our trip to Australia.
This time I'm solo, but I'm watching the France v Switzerland goalfest with a bunch of Euro-types.
Flight time begins when a beautiful African woman sits next to me. After a swift conversation in French on her phone she turns to me and asks if, "I would take a picture of her, so my boyfriend knows I am safely on the plane."
Of course I agree, but then she starts to pose so I shoot off a bunch of options using her camera phone.
As she flicks through them I ask, "Are there any good ones?" "A few", she answers. During the flight she will proceed to eat a little bit of everything served before running to the bathroom. Nice.
In Miami the airport is definitely in World Cup fever. Bunting, merch and South Americans everywhere.
Boarding my flight I notice 3 people.
1. Jerry Springer look-a-like. Annoying American bloke who thinks the panel next to Seat 2a is 'too warm'. Tries all flight to chat-up ...
2. J-Lo look-a-like Flight Attendant. "You're obviously Brazilian,' states douchy Jerry. "No I'm Moroccan" replies Soukaina. The tools in row 5 will refer to her as J-Lo the whole flight. I'm shocked she doesn't kill any of them.
3. Squirrelly old lady of South American descent. AKA my seat neighbor. In the middle of night I wake to see her reclined with her arms crossed over her chest like a corpse. Her eyes are open but she is asleep. And she's wearing Bose headphones. I drift off to sleep again wondering if she might be dead. She's not. An hour later she mistakenly starts adjusting my seat instead of hers. Head up, legs up, ass down it's like a mini massage. She apologizes in some crazy language. I smile and drift back off.