“The Ca-a-a-rt” (with apologies to Toy Story)
I feel like one of them when on a long, international, coach-seat flight. I sit in the aluminum box (or in this case, a tube), and wait for something to happen. One moment of drama, followed by conclusion, followed by another moment. The boarding. The taxiing. The taking-off. The 10,000 foot level that means its safe to use approved electronic devices. And then, the moment slouches into place.
First, you smell it. Food. Then, you hear the things being thumped into place in the galley. You sit forward in your seat.
Then – finally it emerges. The Ca-a-a-rt…
It trundles out from behind the curtain. The shiny, smiley face of the person at the controls as it wheels into place. The promise of nirvana tucked inside its recessed doors, waiting for the hand of deliverance.
“Pick me me me,” I want to cry. “Take me away from here. Transport me to life on the other side, to the garden where the succulent greens of this salad grow…”
I eat, and the empty dishes sit on the tray table, interfering with whatever it is that must be next. I crouch back down into the muddle of the aluminum box and wait. Wait for the drama and the tension. Wait for the next appearance of … The Ca-a-a-rt.