The stocking-filler series continues.
There was this lady on the plane on the way back from Florida. She might have been 70 or so. I had the window seat.
I didn't really say much to her, but somehow I could tell she was dying for a chat. She pulled out her homemade cheese sandwich (bloody good idea), her crosswords, her well-worn book "Brothers & Sisters", her playing cards...
I began dozing, and while half asleep, accidently snuggled up to her, thinking she was the chair. I think I said 'excuse me' (that's american for 'sorry') and we got talking. I thought this was appropriate as pennance for, ummm, snoozing on her.
Anyway, eventually one of us said something funny... and then it happened. The mouth opened, in all its old, yellow glory... and to my displeasure I noticed a hole going straight through the top of her molar. The bottom bit was still there, wedged between its neighbours.. and then darkness... and then gum. The terrible lack of dental anything convinced me to not say anything else remotely funny.
In fact I talked a lot about death.