Okay, last time I had us just ending our visit to New England. The next day, we got up very early (argh) and Patty drove us to the airport. We said goodby to her and then slipped into the lobby.
We were afraid that getting though luggage checked and getting through the TSA checkpoint would be a struggle, but, amazingly enough, everything went fine. There was hardly a wait at either one and we were into security in a matter of moments. Afterwards, I swore that I’d never fly out of Boston’s Logan again, and would from now on use T.F. Green if I possibly can.
The next order of business was breakfast. We found a Dunkin Donuts (cheer!) and equipped ourselves with coffee, sandwiches, and ...and...and Martha thought we ought to have a large bottle of water. Not a small one. A large one. To take on the plane. Something to hydrate with. Wet the old whistle. Lubricate a little.
(Okay, you’re all literate people. You know about foreshadowing. You’re no dummies. You can see what’s coming, right? Thought you could.)
Pretty soon, the PA called us to board...and...and...there I was, dragging our carry-ons, plus cups of coffee that I really should have just thrown away (but, as Martha would have pointed out, “we’ve already paid for them”), plus assorted odds and ends, and my ticket.
I was running out of hands to carry stuff, so ...so...I stuck the bottle of water in my pocket. My pants pocket. Right side.
(See it coming? Of course you do. Like subtle as a Russian truck.)
Then we were on the plane, and I was swinging suitcases and trying to find a spot where we could sit together...Martha prefers the aisle so I’ll take the middle seat...and trying not to run into anyone...and trying not to get run into by anyone...and trying to hoist the carry-ons onto the overhead compartments (“Holy, Flangtharp, is Martha smuggling lead bricks or what?”)...and trying not to throw my back out again...and trying not to spill the coffees...
And finally we get everything done. All the luggage is stowed. Martha is in the aisle seat. There’s a nice gentleman seated to my right. And I sit down...
Which...which...is...when...
The bottle of water...in my pocket...
Bursts.
About the photos: First, an actual picture of me the minute the water bottle exploded. (Okay, it’s a stock photo. But that’s how I felt.)
I don’t just mean it leaks. I mean it bursts. I mean it freaking explodes. I mean SPLUSH.
All over me. All over my seat. All over the guy next to me.
What do you do after that? I mean, really? I guess you could call it an ice breaker with your seatmate. Certainly gives you something to talk about.
Fortunately, he was nice about it. And it didn’t destroy anybody’s phone or other electronics. And if it was true that I was wet and uncomfortable for the rest of the flight...well, exactly how comfortable can you be flying these days? Like...you know...not very. So...all in all, no big deal.
Besides...it gave me an opportunity to harass Martha all the way to Tampa. I mean, really, how often do husbands get a chance like that? Fairly rare. Better use it while you can.
Anyway, the only thing that happened of interest on the trip was at Tampa, which is where we changed planes. Near our gate was a restaurant, The RumFish Grill. We didn’t eat there, but the place has a huge spectacular cylindrical aquarium out front...full of live fish. It’s amazing. I’ll post a little video I took while I was there.
Second, the little video I took of the giant fish tank at Rum Fish.
As an aside, RumFish’s website is here: https://rumfishgrill.com/. I gather that the restaurant’s main (i.e., non-airport) site is on St. Pete Beach, where they have a 33,500 gallon aquarium--a wonder which was featured on “Animal Planet’s Tanked.” It says on their website that you can even book a time to swim and snorkel in that 33,500 gallon tank (https://rumfish.wpengine.com/swim-with-the-fish/)
I thought about pointing out to Martha that if I did book a snorkel session in the aforesaid tank, I’d be almost as moist as I was after having a large water bottle burst in my pocket while in a plane.
I thought about saying that. But...I decided not to. Sometimes, discretion is the better part of valor.
It also keeps your knees intact.
Anyway, after that, we boarded the plane, and were off to Texas.
More to come.
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And third, a shot of Martha looking smashing, and kind of amused, here in Georgetown a short while ago.
Copyright©2023 Michael Jay Tucker
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