AirIndia, free booze, free bladders and pickpocket gypsies.

by David Urbanic
Photographer, Filmmaker, Entourager

It’s official.

The 2008 Spring European Tour has commenced. The band embarked from Newark International Airport to Paris, France yesterday (April 8th, 2008) and began in typical Zelazowa fashion. Prior to boarding AirIndia, we found ourselves with over three hours of down time after arriving to our gate. Fortunately the close proximity of one of the revered “Sam Adams BrewLounge” establishments helped dissolve those otherwise lonesome, boring minutes. Let’s just say $150 doesn’t get you very far when you are buying $9 beers, but it gets you far enough, as Terry Sharkey can arguably attest.

Once the time came, we boarded the 9pm AirIndia flight to Paris where we were delighted by personal video screens at each seat, exotic flight attendants, and free booze. Air India (or as Terry Sharkey would have you know, AirKamaSutra) has no policy on the level of intoxication that can be achieved by it’s passengers. In the words of the exotic flight attendant, “You can drink as much as you want for the duration of the flight!”

This challenge was met by the lot of us, but none more than the venerable T. Sharkey. Perhaps the following observation will be cleared up in further blogging by Terry, but perhaps the myth will only grow. All we know is that Terry disappeared shortly after the announcement was made that, since the flight was terrifically underbooked, all passengers were free to move about the cabin and choose more comfortable seats. This was about the time that the musky French tarts in front of us disappeared as well. The only clue we had that Terry had not simply passed out in an empty row of seats was his clockwork-like reemergence to our overhead storage bins every hour where he would rifle through things with an ever increasing level of excitement on his face, and an unusual way of shuffling down the aisle. Six hours later all that was known of his escapades in coach were a suddenly unusual level of calm, and a curious wet spot on his jeans. Too large to be attributed even to Terry’s mythic urethral activity, but just the right size to be attributed to a sudden, but brief loss of bladder control due to legendary levels of free beverage intake.

The day in Paris was spend trodding about the city, eating baguettes, and touring Notre Dame cathedral where Ian Sharkey spent some memorable times with suspected pickpocket gypsies. The night brought wild times to Zelazowa’s table, plentiful drink and good cheer, and an overly excited French woman who would not take “No”, from Bryan Weber, as an answer! “Kiss me Br-r-r-yan! You MUST kiss me!” as she chased us down the late night Paris streets! The party raged on at our friend Phil’s apartment until nearly dawn when we began to pass out one by one, having had our fill of French YouTube rap and Eel Soup.