As I walked out of the house this morning, Basil Rathbone’s Sherlock Holmes was in the midst of solving a series of rather grisly murders in “The Woman in Green”… I briefly contemplated spilling my travel mug full of coffee on myself so that I would be forced to change, nurse second degree burns and finish the movie.
I’ve been asked several time what I did on my vacation, and my standard answer has been, “As little as humanly possible”, which translates into several loads of laundry, a batch of pumpkin muffins, a cleaning spree, and two and a half books. As far as that half book is concerned, I’m really quite anxious to finish it, but I don’t get paid to sit at my desk and read Sherlock Holmes pastiches.
I spent the second half of my week participating in a sensory walk-through of a Eurasian marketplace, dressed as a flight attendant.
I was the only participant with visible legs.
Somehow, this happens to me frequently… the rest of the world wears pants, and I go clad in pencil skirt.
You’d think I’d be used to it, but I spent all day on Sunday trying to cover my shame (i.e. my knees).
I was told by quite a few people that I would make a great flight attendant.
That’s nonsense, and I must be a decent actress, because other than the joy of being whisked through the clouds in a plane, my good hostess humor would eventually devolve into a rather desperate caricature.
“No, sir, you can’t have another ginger ale because we’re in the process of landing the plane… I apologize for your unruly tummy, but at this point… Well, FINE, throw up if you must.”
I can manage very well for several hours, really, but after I hit my threshold, I would start putting people off the flight… mid-air.
Of course, since this would involve wrangling the emergency door open in mid-flight (would this even be possible), this would not go well for the other passengers.
We don’t really need to get into how often my knees were commented on, nor will I mention (beyond this mention, of course) the phrase “sexy flight attendant.”
Draw your own conclusions.
I will say that my favorite part of the marketplace was discovering a real sheep’s head on a platter.
The sheep was dead, of course… I was quite inappropriately fascinated, and spent the afternoon Googling sheep’s head recipes.
All in all, despite yet another exposure of my knees, and being forced to leave various forms of Sherlock behind, I’m quite glad** to be back at work… even with an atrociously sluggish computer, and a fine layer of dust covering my desk.
**Seeing as how I am phlegmatic, and generally can be depended upon to not have a strong emotion on most matters, “glad” means “I am in no way resentful or upset to be returning to work.”