July 7th, 1989
Flight from JFK – MAN
Presently on crew rest, thinking about the amazing time we had in New York.
Thanks to the five-hour time change, even after a very late night, Frankie and I still woke up early.
“How’s your head Frankie?” I asked.
“Ehm, does it hurt?”
“Not at all. Why would it?”
“I expected you to be feeling a little worse for wear.”
“Oh good Lord, no. Last night was tame. I feel absolutely brilliant,” she screeched, jumping out of bed.
We made our way through the crowds to the Empire State building, which, according to the woman chewing gum and selling tickets, was especially quiet for that time of day. In the elevator, Frankie chuckled when her ears popped and a few second later, we stepped out onto the eighty-sixth floor.
The views across Manhattan were incredible and I would’ve been happy spending the rest of the day up there, which is surprising considering I don’t like heights but an experience such as that shouldn’t be missed.
From there we found our way to Central Park and sighed longingly when we spotted the The Plaza hotel. We agreed to pop in and take a look around and maybe have a drink there when we return to the city in the next few days.
Managed to take a short nap before call time and I’m glad I did because we were delayed out of JFK by three hours. Considering the lengthy delay, the passengers have been really good, except for the vile woman seated in 42B.
We were able to do the drinks and meal service on the ground during the delay, so when we finally took off most of the passengers fell asleep. Not 42B though, she is clearly nocturnal. I just heard a call bell ding ding dinging and I swear it’s her again.
I should probably slip my shoes back on, finish the last of my tea and go and attend to the witch.