Britney Rules the Waves

June 1, 2000

The Scene: Last Thursday night. 35,000 feet over the Atlantic. Kuwait Air Flight KU100. JFK to Heathrow.

(We booked a flight on this airline because it was the cheapest way to get to London.)

The Cast: 200 Arabs, 50 Indians, one female Irish travelling companion, and me.

The cabin is hot and muggy. The smell of lamb, sweat, and feet saturate the air.

The television on the seat back in front of me has seven channels. Four in Arabic, one in Hindi, one in English. The remaining channel shows the plane’s orientation in relation to Mecca.

In front of me sits a traditional Arab family. The mother is dressed from head to toe in black. Only her eyes and hands are visible.

Her daughter sits next to her, in the seat directly in front of me. She is conservatively dressed but she is without a veil. Instead, she wears headphones which are blaring into her ears.

The little girl begins to sing along.

"I’m not that inn-o-cent."

Priceless.

Broadway Jim Sosnicky