He is on the phone, speaking Arabic, loudly.
Sitting at the gate, waiting for boarding. Mid-twenties, short hair, jeans, sweatshirt, messenger bag, walking boots.
Boarding is completed, I sit in 23F...he sits in 23D.
Still on the phone, completely unimpressed by the world surrounding him. Sometimes the conversation switches into German, sometimes I can pick up something I actually understand, standing out in a funny way.
Blablablabla Gangnam Style blablablabla.
Last moment before take off he is finally quiet, and takes of his boots.
Fully understandle that, I mean, the flight is going to be a staggering 1hr!
Airborne he disappears to the toilet and when he returns he has some amazing music on his fancy headphones. Can't hear a thing but judging by the way he is dancing and drumming in his seat it must be.
He stops dancing for eating the Lufthansa snack, stinky salmon. He asks for a second portion and gets it. And I'm annoyed as I had thought about it often but would never dare asking...and he just did and succeeded...self-convinced, at ease. He slurps his tea.
Fortunately this flight is a short one...sometimes it's the small things that add up.
I wanted to hit him on the head.