Seared rare
We had moved to the Windsor Arms, Toronto’s trendiest boutique hotel, for the night of the wedding reception. We had already had a legal ceremony in Vegas for immigration reasons but we wanted to have a big party in Hunnybear’s home town so we had double weddings. Our suite, included with the reception, was furnished in light oak and had exquisite beddings and a nice shower but no high-speed Internet. Bowls of fruit and bottled water in the corridors were a nice touch.
The morning after, we checked out and picked up my mother and Lipa at the Marriott Bloor. We drove to Mummybear and Papabear’s house for yummy brunch and then headed for the airport. We dropped my parents off at Terminal 2 for their Air Canada flight. We had ordered a wheelchair for my mom and they had a special checkin for her that was even better than First Class. Hunnybear and I went to Terminal 3 to return the Buick by way of a one-lane construction detour bordered by Jersey barriers that reminded us of a Hot Wheels racetrack. Hunnybear exchanged a handful of quarters for a Smarte Carte and we checked in at the red carpet with no line.
Customs and Immigration went smoothly and we returned the Smarte Carte for a dollar refund before heading for the Admiral’s Club to see if we deserved to get in. The angel there told us they were currently investigating whether Toronto-LA should be considered a transcon and therefore qualify for lounge access on C and F tickets. While they were investigating, she said, she’d be happy to make an exception and let us in. We thanked her and took a pair of seats by the window. Moments later she returned with two drink coupons in case we wanted anything stronger.
After a half-hour it was time to board so we thanked the angel again and headed for gate B-12. We hung back and sacrificed an unsuspecting Asian mother and daughter to the security gods and then boarded while the daughter was removing her shoes. We passed the mother halfway down the Jetway saying, “Where my daughter?”
We had booked seats 6A and B (out of 7) on this 737-800 for maximum meal choice since orders are taken east-to-west on American. Only half of the 20 seats in the front cabin were occupied. On United, two people wouldn’t have got seats.
There was no preflight drink service but we pushed back two minutes early and took off after only a nine-minute taxi. Service on this flight was almost identical to the flight out: the only difference was two entrees, filet mignon and seafood risotto instead of lobster and macadamia-encrusted chicken. We both ordered the filet. “On the rare side if possible,” I chuckled to the steward, “although I do realize we’re on an airplane.”
Service started less than a half-hour after pushback. Once again we got the hot mixed nuts with pistachios, double hot towels, and shrimp and spinach salad served together as an appetizer. Our filets came out cooked perfectly seared rare. The flight attendant, walking by and hearing my beef cry out in pain as blood dripped from a deep gash I had cut in it, made me take off my Bose headphones and asked if I wanted it more well done. “No,” I said. “No I don’t. Thank you.” Having already tested my lactobacillus on sundaes I joined Hunnybear in a small cheese plate for dessert.
The movie on this flight was The Shipping News, a watery return-to-your-roots story with Cate Blanchett in uglifying makeup and a terminal detour to the supernatural that could not be saved by Titanic-like instrumentals or a first-rate performance by QuietLion look-alike Kevin Spacey. The crew had decided to wait until the coach meal service was completely finished to start the movie so we had only audio entertainment for the first half of the flight.
By the time the movie was over we were almost to LA. Hunnybear and I passed once again on the yummy Otis Spunkmeyer® cookies and the hard candies but not the final hot towel. We landed 14 minutes early. Our bags, not priority tagged for some reason, came out first. We grabbed a cab back to Marina del Rey and gave the driver a very generous tip. In less than 24 hours we would leave for our hunnymoon.
Bottom Lion:[*]The Sheraton Centre Hotel was hosting a meeting of a group called the Association for Behavior Analysis. Craig6z looked in on them but couldn’t figure out what they were doing.[*]Actors Jeff Goldblum and Adam Arkin were staying with us at the tiny Windsor Arms. We had met Goldblum a few years ago and we remembered him but he didn’t remember us.[*]Flight attendants really ought to have bartender training, at least in First Class.
The end.
[This message has been edited by QuietLion (edited 05-27-2002).]