Andrew Kay: Yak Yak Yak
Jiggling Japanese Lady
I have always been a fidget, as a kid I had the most extraordinary ability to pick up things with my toes. Sadly this somewhat useless gift is long gone as with age my toes seem to now function as a unitary authority in one single motion. I am delighted to say though that my nephew seems to have inherited that toe wiggling gene and is now the butt of all the family’s prehensile jokes.
Knowing that I am a fidget means that I have developed the ability not to do so, a vital skill for someone who spends a lot of time sat next to strangers in theatres or on trains or planes. Anyone who attends the theatre will know that I will sit still from start to finish and will also know that I am pretty intolerant of seat shifters and whisperers. Crisp eaters drive me crazy – but that’s another story.
A group of friends and I recently flew to Nice for the day. The reason, to surprise a friend on her birthday. It was a reasonably priced flight, an early start and of course a late finish but it was well worth the effort to be with her on this special day and we all enjoyed a walk in the mediterranean winter sun, a delicious meal and a few glasses of wine to make the wheels of celebration run smoothly.
By six thirty the sun had disappeared over the sea and it was time for us to board the local bus back to the airport, check in and wait.
Nice airport is small and there was little there to keep us entertained during the long wait for our flight to be called – and airport lounge seats are never comfortable. But finally we were called and the slow process of boarding began.
I waited in my seat until I could see that there were only two or three people in the queue, and then I joined in. After all, the seats were allocated so I knew I had a place to sit.
What a place!
To my right a gentleman of a similar age to me read quietly. To the right the jiggling Japanese lady.
I know, it sounds like the title of one of Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes novels, but it could not be more appropriate.
I completely understand that when taking your seat on a plane it is necessary to make yourself comfortable, find your book, specs, electronic device… This should take no more than a few minutes, but not for the jiggling Japanese lady. No, for her this was a mammoth task that lasted for the entire time we sat waiting to push back from the airport, taxi to the runway, take off, fly and then touch down and taxi into the hard stand at Gatwick.
The jiggling started with a search for her things, this took some time and was entirely useless as she never settled for long enough to listen to her iPad or read her magazine.
Once all her bits were in place she had to then consult with her friend in the row in front. This involved her swinging her whole body through 180 degrees meaning that her tiny jiggling feet were virtually in my lap.
Next came the air steward’s attempt to sell us stuff we neither need nor want. This required further consultation with the friend followed by a search for a purse.
Purchases made, the jiggling Japanese lady then clearly started to worry about deep vein thrombosis. This manifested itself by serious bodily abuse. She clenched her fists tight and started to pound the muscles in her legs with a ferocity that was quite terrifying. This process went on intermittently for the rest of the flight, only punctuated by scrambling around to keep the blanket that she was using for added warmth, in a more than adequately heated cabin, in place. Of course with all the jiggling and leg punching it kept sliding off and landing on the floor, which in turn meant undoing her safety belt and reaching down.
It was 90 minutes of pure hell, 90 minutes of much needed sleep lost.
When finally we landed she was first up and first to open the overhead locker, but being tiny she did not see that her spectacle case had fallen out and was lodged out of sight. I saw it of course and being a gentleman smiled and retrieved it for her. Big mistake! Her profuse but grateful thanks caused even more of the damned jiggling.
