Flight Terrors

I managed to get an upgrade on the flight from Buenos Aires to Dallas and I got settled in, next to a poor and relatively young sap from BA on his way to the US for business. I had the opportunity to pick a movie that I would not see under other circumstances because of its, "R" rating. On the American Airlines movies the more offensive parts have been edited.

This movie was one of the new movies made on a Stephen King short story and I have forgotten the name of it already. It had something to do with a room number. A horror movie about an evil hotel room, they certainly seemed to keep the most terrifying bits… At least it was very scary. Really, beyond that, I have little more to say about the film itself.

The film ended and this plane had the seats that recline into beds and I went to sleep, unscathed by the flick…or so I thought. At some point in the night, I was awakened by a nightmare, apparently thanks to the film. I sat forward fully intending on one of my howling screams but thankfully, only came out with a very breathy; “WHOOOOHHFFF!” repeated a couple or three times.

My pretty much unacquainted voyage mate was apparently startled out of his tranquil rest or reverie by my gasping lunge forward. He patted me on the back with Argentine reassurances and soothing words of, “Está bien, está bien, tranquilo…” I vividly recall, looking at him with foggy, dead dolls eyes and then I lay back down and drifted back to sleep.

I forgot all of this upon our arrival, what with all of the activity of getting through immigrations and customs. I did not recall my unfortunate travel companion’s comforting efforts. When I did, I could not but pity the poor fellow and laugh at his doubtless discomfort after his night next to a terrified and probably, terrifying gringo. I told Julie I figured he would be pretty well scarred for life, haunted with his own true night terrors on his memorable flight from Buenos Aires.