Have you knocked back a prescription drug with the sole intention of reaping the side effects?
No? Never? Well nor have I. Probably because they are, by definition, effects that come ON THE SIDE. i.e they’re NOT THE INTENDED EFFECT. But we all have that one friend, don’t we…
I’m no exception. I too have that one friend: his name is Roy. And I would like to preface the remainder of this story by saying that Roy is one of my best friends. He’s a fantastic human being and I love him to absolute bits.
However. Roy’s a fool. Plain and simple: He’s the bloke that just has no idea. About anything: the happy-go-lucky guy that walks on air; the guy without any sense of what’s appropriate to bring up in conversation; the guy with no idea how loud he’s talking; and the guy who has the time management skills of a fish.
On top of all this, he’s the guy that has allergies. All the allergies. To be honest, the list of things he can’t have is shorter than the list of things he can. Roy enjoys life without dairy, gluten, red meat, wheat, fun etc.
So it goes without saying that he has some SERIOUS allergy meds. All of which he brought with him as we boarded LAN Chile flight LA800, bound for Santiago, Chile.
Aside from offending some Asian tourists in front of us (talking about them LOUDLY), Roy was relatively well behaved on the first leg of our flight. Yes it was only a two hour hop to Auckland. But for Roy that's an achievement. We stopped over in Auckland airport, sipped an easing-into-the-holiday beer, and re-boarded our flight through to Santiago.
This leg was a longer one, clocking in at twelve hours. We sat in a row of three on the left side of the cabin, three guys fresh out of high school, venturing to South America. The aisle seat was mine. Roy had the middle. And Hugh, the third member of our travel party, snatched the window. We watched mediocre movies, ate mediocre pasta (Roy didn't), and teased Roy for being allergic to things.
Eventually the cabin lights around us begin to dim. Passengers embark on the tetris-like-task of contorting their bodies to find comfort on an aeroplane.
Sleep and I have a fairly one-sided relationship: I care SO much... I've tried giving her space; smothering her with affection; staying home to look after the kids... She still wants nothing to do with me.
At home, I spend hours trying to fall asleep. Then if (IF) I manage to, I'm awoken by a leaf falling three suburbs over. So it goes without saying that on planes our relationship is particularly strenuous.