I can feel the man in the seat next to mine subtly elbowing me until I turn my head and glance up at the flight attendant. She’s nodding at the nearly finished glass of Mai Tai on my tray table, the very reason why my response time is epically slow. “Uh, almost,” I tell her with a smile that I hope looks sober and pick up the thin plastic cup so she won’t snatch it away. Not that it really matters—I’ve had four syrupy cocktails in the last six hours. From the moment I boarded the Alaska Airlines flight heading out of Seattle for Lihue, I’ve been drinking my nerves away. It doesn’t help that the Mai Tais on this flight have been free the last two hours, even for us poor people in coach. It seems the airline wants everyone to get excited about the impending paradise, and drinks are on the house. I finish the rest of the cocktail while she patiently waits, the sticky sweetness of rum and fruit-juice puckering my tongue, and hand her the empty glass.
