In the line for the departure lounge, I asked the Londoner behind me if I could take a soft drink on the plane. He didn’t hear me/understand me/ignored me . . . then looked as though he had the information I needed.
Then he told me how long I’d be in the departure lounge. Everything he said, he read off a sign directly in front of us. Either he thought I was stupid, or he didn’t know the answer. Third option, maybe he thought when I said, ‘can I take a can of soft drink onboard?’ he thought I said, ‘how long till we board the plane?’ It looks as though I’m going to struggle to be understood.
Maybe I should speak louder and he’ll understand my foreign dialect? I’m hoping for two things: being easily understood in the UK, and sitting next to literally anyone other than that guy on the plane. If things continued the way they’ve been going, life would fall apart. This is what it would be like meeting new people.
Me: “What’s your name?”
Guy: “The flight’s heading to London.”
Me: “Ok . . . what part of London are you from?”
Guy: “I’m having a beer, didn’t feel hungry.”
Me: “Oh, fuck off.”
Guy: *punches me in the face*
I will only be understood when I wish I hadn’t been.
There ended up being one seat between me and the guy that didn’t understand me. Success.
Because I’m arriving at 6am, I’m descending during sunrise. Friends have said they’re worth staying up for, and while I didn’t stay up for it intentionally, it’s still a great way to start a new adventure. As an unrelated sidenote, all the English people on this plane are either red-faced, super pale, or unnaturally tanned. These people have no middle ground. And neither do I. With my accent that renders me impossible to communicate with, I am New Zealand’s Helen Keller. (Admittedly I can see and hear, so it’s a slight exaggeration rendered almost completely false based on the lack of similarities between her and me, but it’s still true.)
Like her, I will be a hero. Like her, I will be a legend. Like her, I will overcome various struggles my disabilities have forced on me to become a renowned political activist and lecturer . . . or a comedian. Probably the latter.