Flight of Misery
I’m heading back home from a fantastic week off in sunny (and snow free) San Francisco. Last few days were rainy, but it we managed to get everything my girlfriends and I had wanted to do. However, my flight back home has not been so pleasant. My eyeballs are burning, hands are dry, and I feel so crammed in my seat, I think I have lost sensation in the lower half of my body. All in all, I really do love to fly and I’ve had a good time in the places I have been to, but there are a few things I just can’t handle. These include:
1. Flight delays. Especially when they entail trying to quickly fix problems with the plane. I know that when we take off the plane is supposed to be in working condition and that there really isn’t anything to worry about, but frequent updates from the pilot regarding some computer glitch doesn’t make me feel warm and fuzzy inside.
2. Children. I love kids, but every time I fly and there are screaming children around me I want to pull out all of my hair. I’ve developed the ability to tune them out, but today I have reached my ultimate peak. My trip started off with two infants in front of me, and another two rows ahead. The little boy in front of me is not wearing pants.
3. Sitting behind your first year Engineering Calculus and Algebra professor. I was in my seat and looked up to see the Burbulla standing in front of me. Completely harmless of course, but it could not have been a good omen.
While we were waiting to take off, it really wasn’t that bad. The parents in front of me were fantastic and their children were calm most of the time. However, my former professor, being the extra fidgety man that he is triggered a mass reshuffle in the front half of our economy class section. I did online check in last night so that I could get a really good seat and lucked out by getting a completely empty row to myself. I had it all planned out—shoes and space for feet in front of me, camera bag and laptop bag underneath the seat next to me. I waited as the plane was boarding, that I would get to keep the empty row and was extremely happy to find that it would be mine. The mother and her child in the front row decided that they wanted to move because Burbulla couldn’t handle the child moving around, and they moved to the first row, while the woman with the neck cuff moved over to the window, and the mother and child were now looking for a new place to sit. The people who were in front of me were okay, but they scanned each row, belongings in tow, for the next unwilling victim to sit with.
I have a lot of respect for parents who travel with young children mainly because I know I would have a breakdown trying to do it on my own. However, I knew my empty row and me was a prime candidate for their new location. The stewardess seemed rather frustrated trying to explain to them where they could go, because there wasn’t really anywhere else to go where they’d have a row to themselves, and all the little 3 year old boy could say to each option she suggested was, “No thanks. No thanks”. My row was the only other option as any one else who had a row to themselves were already sprawled across three seats and fast asleep. So they moved in and my bladder started to reach its limit. I sat there and read my book, hoping that I would just fall asleep and wake up in Toronto and just march off to the bathroom, but after a glass of water at Fru’s, a large cup of tea at the airport, a water and apple juice on the plane, and already with two bathroom trips counted, I had to go again. I looked to my right and my new neighbours were already asleep :(
And so I decided to leave what was once my lovely empty row to sit directly behind my old professor, who by the way is not a small man (he is at a minimum 6’ tall), and enjoys sitting with his seat fully reclined. I am sitting with my knees nearly at my ears and the laptop almost completely flat so that I can type and read my screen.
I think the situation is just so ridiculously unbearable that it’s funny. Only 3 hours left on this flight and I will be happy and on solid ground.
1. Flight delays. Especially when they entail trying to quickly fix problems with the plane. I know that when we take off the plane is supposed to be in working condition and that there really isn’t anything to worry about, but frequent updates from the pilot regarding some computer glitch doesn’t make me feel warm and fuzzy inside.
2. Children. I love kids, but every time I fly and there are screaming children around me I want to pull out all of my hair. I’ve developed the ability to tune them out, but today I have reached my ultimate peak. My trip started off with two infants in front of me, and another two rows ahead. The little boy in front of me is not wearing pants.
3. Sitting behind your first year Engineering Calculus and Algebra professor. I was in my seat and looked up to see the Burbulla standing in front of me. Completely harmless of course, but it could not have been a good omen.
While we were waiting to take off, it really wasn’t that bad. The parents in front of me were fantastic and their children were calm most of the time. However, my former professor, being the extra fidgety man that he is triggered a mass reshuffle in the front half of our economy class section. I did online check in last night so that I could get a really good seat and lucked out by getting a completely empty row to myself. I had it all planned out—shoes and space for feet in front of me, camera bag and laptop bag underneath the seat next to me. I waited as the plane was boarding, that I would get to keep the empty row and was extremely happy to find that it would be mine. The mother and her child in the front row decided that they wanted to move because Burbulla couldn’t handle the child moving around, and they moved to the first row, while the woman with the neck cuff moved over to the window, and the mother and child were now looking for a new place to sit. The people who were in front of me were okay, but they scanned each row, belongings in tow, for the next unwilling victim to sit with.
I have a lot of respect for parents who travel with young children mainly because I know I would have a breakdown trying to do it on my own. However, I knew my empty row and me was a prime candidate for their new location. The stewardess seemed rather frustrated trying to explain to them where they could go, because there wasn’t really anywhere else to go where they’d have a row to themselves, and all the little 3 year old boy could say to each option she suggested was, “No thanks. No thanks”. My row was the only other option as any one else who had a row to themselves were already sprawled across three seats and fast asleep. So they moved in and my bladder started to reach its limit. I sat there and read my book, hoping that I would just fall asleep and wake up in Toronto and just march off to the bathroom, but after a glass of water at Fru’s, a large cup of tea at the airport, a water and apple juice on the plane, and already with two bathroom trips counted, I had to go again. I looked to my right and my new neighbours were already asleep :(
And so I decided to leave what was once my lovely empty row to sit directly behind my old professor, who by the way is not a small man (he is at a minimum 6’ tall), and enjoys sitting with his seat fully reclined. I am sitting with my knees nearly at my ears and the laptop almost completely flat so that I can type and read my screen.
I think the situation is just so ridiculously unbearable that it’s funny. Only 3 hours left on this flight and I will be happy and on solid ground.
posted by Miss Pow @ 5:27 p.m.
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