Airline Observations

Some people dress up to travel and some don’t. There used to be a time when people would get dressed up to the nines. Traveling on planes was considered a status symbol. Now people travel in the most comfortable clothes possible. Your leopard print chef’s pants with ripped t-shirt falls into that category. I will give a pass to the kid who sat next to me in the tie dye and cargo shorts. I was also happy to help you cheat on you math homework although I probably gave you all wrong answers. Sorry.

There is a point in every plane flight where people all start farting. You start smelling it. It is natural due to the air pressure in the cabin and  I guess all that bouncing around. People need to do what I do. If you have to let a big one rip, get your ass up and fart in the airplane bathroom. To the 60 year old woman in front of me, you are not fooling anyone. I know it is coming from you. You were exuding multiple farts.

To the older gentlemen on my puddle jumper flight from Scranton to Newark, if the seat rest on the aisle side of your seat doesn’t go up the first time, why do you think it will go up after the eighth time!?  It is not supposed to! He kept trying it, and trying it, and trying it. I sat across the aisle from him watching this in frustration. I finally spoke up, “It doesn’t go up.” He kept trying it. “IT DOES NOT GOT UP!” I said firmly. “It’s not supposed to!” Other passengers were observing this. “Boxcar-kumquat?” he asked me. (Well at least that's what it sounded like.) The gentleman did not speak English and I had no idea what language he was in fact, speaking. I sighed loudly and stared at the airplane ceiling.

Speaking of arm rests, please strange mother, do not place your adorable baby onto my aisle seat rest after walking him up and down the aisle a dozen times to try and tire him out. I don’t appreciate him falling back onto my lap. I froze, I just completely froze. There he is writhing around on my laptop and tray table while you laugh, apologize, and attempt to get your arms around him. And then to make matters worse, you grabbed my MP3 player with one of your baby’s arms and forcibly snatched the head phones from my head. I could have been severly injured … by those little rubber headphone thingys.

Although as I was listening to my loud club music, it was quite oddly fascinating that you were bouncing him around in your arms EXACTLY to the beat of Daft Punk's new album. I enjoyed that.

Airlines no longer use cash for foods purchased on board. So if you are gonna buy that snack box with pita chips, Chex Mix, and Pringles, you will need a credit card or ATM card to pay for it. Make sure you get a receipt for that purchase. I purchased a Thai chicken wrap which was actually very good. I did not purchase the Starburst fruit chews and granola bar. Now they always ask you if you want your receipt. My advice, definitely take it. My unnamed airlines though was very apologetic and quick to remedy the error.

Lastly, I love having a drink at the airport restaurant or bar when I travel. I call it my first drink of the vacation! It is fun watching the dynamics of other passengers. Several people flirt with each other over their beers or glasses of wine. Some businessmen talked business. They seem boring. Others stare straight ahead, not budging from this position. They are rigid as they eat, never wavering. Now THEY are the ones who need a drink.



Comments

  1. I don't fly as often as I used to when my mother was alive and living in San Jose. But I did just fly out for my niece's graduation from the Culinary Institute of America in Napa. Thanks for giving me a chance to brag about it!
    So being boxed up in an airplane is fresh in my mind. I enjoyed reading your take on it.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I've traveled with you little brother, should I blog what THAT'S LIKE?!?!?! LOLOLOLOL.....Your big sis

    ReplyDelete
  3. Love you Sis! And Muriel, thank you as always for your comments. I enjoy reading them.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

AP Cake, A PA Dutch Recipe

Baby Goats and a Sweet Summer Evening!

A Monster Allergic Reaction: Erythritol