Eventually, everyone with children, thinning grey hair and canes were loaded on to the plane.

Then the speaker came to life again. “All of our business class passengersplease line up with your boarding passes and passports ready to be inspected. for boarding.”

One man stood up and felt for his passport and boarding pass. He couldn’t find it and soon had a shocked look on his face and began walking quickly and then running away from the gate.

Security eyed him closely.

He soon realized, almost too late, that he had left both at a sandwich shop some fifty yards away. He was tall and his lanky legs carried him away seemingly without effort though his face did show some concern.

Security continued to watch him as he ran away but soon realized that it was the usual goof who they see most everyday.

“Okay Joe, I’m off to my seat. See you in Istanbul on our layover, if not sooner,”Charlene said as the first class passengers were asked to line up.

“Great Charlene. I’ll be back in the cheap seats.”

“Maybe I’ll come and visit you during the flight Joe. I can get into your area easier than you might infiltrate mine.”

That word seemed somehow appropriate. They were traveling in two very different worlds, in life and on the plane.

Joe would be sitting in a very narrow seat most likely next to a crying child and a secret smoker who would smell awful.

Charlene would be having her meals on fine bone china and napping or sleeping in a twin sized bed with a personal screen and electrical outlets for a hundred different devices needing to be charged.

He would be fighting his neighbors for elbow room, room to recline and watching a mother wipe baby vomit from his clothing.

“Oh well, such is life. Those with money run the show,” he had heard his father say a few million times.

Joe was first in line for group four. That was better than usual for him. He didn’t fly often but when he did he was usually the last to board the airplane. He had his two, allotted, carry on, bags that fit most airlines.

He ambled slowly forward, knowing that many passengers wouldn’t be seated yet. He wondered why it was such a difficult process and why it hadn’t improved over so many years of air travel. If anything it had gotten worse, not better.

When he finally arrived inside the plane he saw the usual cast of characters. Those with bags to large for the overhead compartments, one woman coming back against the tide of humanity who didn’t know the difference between five and seven and a little boy on the verge of tears.

When the dust settled, he found himself in the rear of the plane next to the galley and restrooms. It was no surprise. He knew this landscape well.

“Alright folks, just settle into your seats please. We need to move away from the gate as soon as possible and we can’t do that until you are all seated,” the captain said over the intercom.

Joe wondered why they didn’t give everyone more tome to load the plane and get seated but soon realized that it would make little difference. His seat was in the middle of three.

He forced his bags into the overhead compartment that was smaller than usual and sat down. He tried to relax by looking over the brochures in the seat pocket in front of him.

He knew the probable outcome of an airplane crash but didn’t let it detour him from traveling on this, perhaps, once in a lifetime adventure to Africa.

When he looked up he saw a young woman with a three or four month old baby coming his way down the right isle at him. A large man in front of her was on his way to the last two empty seats on the plane. Yes, they were sitting on each side of Joe.

“Hello neighbor,” the large man with a deep voice said as he came up the isle seat after stuffing a large, black, plastic bag in the overhead compartment. The floor sank just a little as he approached. He smelled of garlic and and tomato sauce. “Those pizzas in that little place by the book store are great. And the price wasn’t bad either,” the man mentioned as he squeezed into his seat.

The woman with the baby looked at Joe and he understood that she needed help putting her bag overhead. She handed the baby to Joe as he stood up while she placed her large bag in the overhead compartment. There was little room left. She then squeezed in past Joe and took the window seat with a nervous look at Joe as he handed her her baby.

“Hello, I’m Charles Curtis from Nebraska. Have you ever been to Nebraska?” The man put out a red stained hand to shake. “No,” Joe replied.

Joe now knew that it was going to be a very long flight to Istanbul.

A cloudy day in Mongolia.

If you are enjoying this story please tell a few hundred of your closest friends.

My won’t talk to me anymore about this.

More tomorrow.