The Kingfisher Class – Part 2

Since The Kingfisher Class – Part 1 was first written, I have traveled by Kingfisher Airlines twice. On all the three occasions, I had fun. Come be a part of the Kingfisher experience.

Other frequent fliers like me would know that after checking-in the bags and getting the boarding pass, one has to go for the security clearance. I did the same. When the policeman there asked me to empty my pockets and felt me throughout, I asked me: “What are you checking for?”

“Sir, our mandate is simple. Check for bombs.”

I smiled.

“The flight you are traveling by is allowed to carry only 4-5 bombs.”

“What?”

“Don’t panic. I was only referring to the air hostess,” the policemen showed his pan stained teeth as he smiled.

Everything done, it was now time to enter the Boeing. I stood outside for a while and wondered…was I looking good today? Would the air hostesses smile at me?

My guess was right…I am good looking…for two really pretty girls, clad in a red top and an almost-mini skirt smiled at me and said: “Welcome aboard Kingfisher Airlines, Sir.”

“Thanks, and you can call me Jammy.” I responded in my Gregory Peck voice. They didn’t respond. Eccentric behavior.

As I was entering, I noticed a gentleman indulging in brisk business. He had a table and chair placed near the ladder and had a board which said: “Exchange Window for Aisle. Rs 1000/- only.”

My seat was 20D – an aisle seat. After reading the comments left for the earlier piece (read them here), I had realized the importance of aisle seats on such miss-adventures and specifically asked for it.

As soon as I took my seat, the person sitting to my right whispered into my ears: “I am kind of old, can I sit in the aisle seat?”

I remembered hearing such statements earlier. It took me a few seconds to realize that’s what one would get to hear in trains, “Can you sleep in my upper berth please…I can sleep in your lower berth…I am kind of old and my bones are breaking.” I remember once asking the old man: “You sure, you asking me for this berth exchange has got nothing to do with the pretty girl sleeping in the next lower berth?” He had just winked.

I refused to give him my aisle seat. When the negotiations broke down, he was ready to offer Rs 4500/ -for my seat.

Just before the plane was to take off, the captain asked us to wear our seat belts. Maybe, I was too busy watching the air hostess, for I had forgotten to wear the seat belt. The prettiest of them all walked up to me and kept staring at me. I looked at her and said “What?”

“Sir, what did the captain say?”

“How am I to know?”

She looked down at me as she would look at a Pig but it didn’t put me off. After all, I have always believed that PIG when expanded becomes Pretty Indian Guy.

“Sir, please wear your seat belt. We are concerned about your safety.”

My thoughts went racing. Priya – she had her name pinned on her red top – cared about me. Did she love me? Should I propose right away and suggest a marriage in Mumbai. Wasn’t proposal a guy’s job? Was the hair she had tied in a bun behind her head real? So many questions and so few answers….

“I love you. Will you marry me? Please.”

“Sir, this flight has 210 passengers inside and I can assure you that barring the 8 women we have here…all the other passengers are in love with me.”

I didn’t say a word. Didn’t the Greatest of them all, Muhammad Ali once say: Silence is Golden when you can’t think of a good answer.

“Sir, every time we walk down the aisle…we know 200 heads turn. Please don’t do this to us…we are only trying to make a living.”

I couldn’t say a word. She stared at me, I looked away. In such circumstances, it is best to remain quite, look confident and accept defeat. Especially in Kingfisher Airlines where aisle seat or no aisle seat…you will always end up losing your heart to the pretty girls.

Perhaps it was what the Kingfisher air hostess had told me… I didn’t ask for an aisle seat while returning from Mumbai in a Jet Airways flight. The fact that Jet Airways air hostesses aren’t anything great helped in decision making!

Other Must Reads

How beetroot became red
Optimist vs Pessimist
The concept of Birth
Music and I are distant cousins who hate each other

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Posted by Jamshed V Rajan on Dec 14 2006. Filed under Flirting, Men. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0. You can leave a response or trackback to this entry