Friday, September 21, 2012

Green Salad, Vodka, and a Missing Breast

On the flight home from Adak this week I was upgraded to first class.There were 15 people on the jet, total. Ten of us were in first class. The flight attendant asked me if I'd like to have dinner -- an herb chicken breast with a green salad. That'd be lovely, I said. Oh, and a vodka and sprite zero cocktail too, please!

The cocktail and salad arrived, but no chicken. I thought perhaps dinner was being served in two courses. I was hungry. I ate my salad, the pretzel snack mix, and the after-dinner chocolate. My tray was cleared. No chicken. I had been doing heavy weight-lifting all week. Thursday in particular I did heavy squats. Hip crease below parallel, squats! I needed protein. I was hungry. I ordered another cocktail. They kept giving me two little bottles of vodka, not just one. Essentially I had ordered two double vodkas. Of course I had done so on the premise that I'd be eating chicken, not just weeds.

The chicken breast never came. If one of Blair and Mark's chickens had been there I would have sunk my teeth into its raw, juicy breast. I was that hungry.

(This is Mark and Blair with their free-range, organic chickens. They look delicious!)

Instead I worked on a baby blanket that I've been crocheting for 7 1/2 months. Poor Lyla Belle. Not only was this blanket supposed to be completed for her birth last February, it may now have a new stitch pattern called vodka chicken because I couldn't count stitches correctly due to the two double vodkas. Oh well. She won't remember these first months anyway.

My friend Gail was sitting kitty corner from me and I scampered across the aisle to the vacant seat next to her. "Gail! I'm starving! They never brought me my chicken and I had 2 double vodkas!" She leaned her head back into her neck pillow and her eyes widened as she absorbed the information. She laughed and offered me her protein bar. I was beyond whey powder -- I needed flesh.

As we descended into Anchorage all I could think about was the menu at Chili's in the airport (which I have memorized by now) and what I would order first. I had a 1 1/2 hour layover before my flight to Fairbanks. That time was going to be spent eating.

As I disembarked I inquired about the missing breast:
"What happened to the chicken dinner?"
"Why, was something wrong with it?" the flight attendant looked at me with furrowed brow.
"Yes, I never got it!" I replied.
"Oh, I was wondering why I had one left over."

The poor patrons sitting beside me at the Chili's bar had to hear a lot about the missing chicken breast. And for some reason, Crossfit. I don't know why.