Um, forgot to mention: the inflight dinner didn't have that ferocious taste of MSG, unlike the American inflight breakfast. (I'd have to think about whether I'm confusing dinner and breakfast here, but in these flights the devil himself would break a leg.) The only similarity was the Coca-Cola, which I call liquid evil, and I've already gotten everyone at work used to it. That's exactly how I say it: “Splash me some blAck evil!”
We didn't fly for long — about three hours, probably. I have to say that the evil Andryukha took my window seat, and during takeoff he enjoyed the view of Riga, and during arrival — Heraklion. Then I discovered that my Sony Reader, which I was planning to use as an MP3 player too, wasn't reading the memory card. There was nothing left to do but close my eyes, but that didn't help me fall asleep — my back and neck simply despise airplane seats way too much. So Andryukha and I chatted a bit about students stealing ashtrays en masse from cafes. I don't remember why the topic came up, but either way, kids, it's not nice to swipe ashtrays, just so you know. Swiping stuff in general is not nice, and what exactly you swipe isn't all that important.
Next to me sat a teenage girl; she climbed onto the seat with her feet, covered herself with a blanket, and slept with a happy smile on her face. She got so into it that at one point, half-asleep, she reached over to hug me. I suppose she was getting comfortable using me as a pillow. And during landing, she didn't even wake up. Honestly, when pretty young girls hit on me in real life, even for platonic purposes, I don't really mind. It would be a whole different story if it were like in that commercial. Spare me from that.
Anyway, we landed at about 5 in the morning, maybe half past five. Andryukha was on high alert — he didn't see any palm trees. Everyone knows there have to be palm trees in a tropical paradise. Andrey is a simple guy — he didn't look up anything about Crete in advance. But Andrey has a programmer's mindset and is therefore logical: no palm trees — no paradise. What a relief it was for him when, right in the airport, we spotted the coveted tree, even if it looked more like a pineapple.
