Tuesday, October 28, 2008

The Friendly Skies

[BUMP]

It was a pretty good week in New Orleans. Delta once again came through and got me there and home again quite comfortably and with no delays. Right now I’m on my flight from Atlanta back to Boston, and I really have no complaints.

[BUMP]

I used to be a pretty big critic of airline travel. It just seems that they take your money and then treat you like common cattle, only stupider. Stand in line to check in. Follow the procedure or get pushed aside while they deal with people who know what’s going on. Stand in line to check your bag. God himself can’t help you if your bag’s over the weight limit.

[BUMP]

Stand in line to go through security. Remove your belt. Remove your shoes. Put everything on the conveyor. No, no, no. Remove your laptop from the case and put it in a separate bin. Still got your watch on? What kind of idiot are you? Please step back through the detector, remove your watch, you moron, place it in the bin, and step through again. Okay. Obviously, you’re nowhere near intelligent enough to carry out a terrorist plot, so go ahead.

[BUMP]

Okay, at the gate. You’re at A1. But your flight takes off from K88. I don’t care that your ticket, the counter agents, and the flight information board all say that your flight takes off from A1, sir. Please walk back out of the security checkpoint and through the airport to Terminal K, conveniently located only two zip codes away, go back through security, and report to Gate K88. You’ve got 6 minutes, you’ll be fine.

[BUMP]
Red-faced, panting, down 3 quarts of sweat, at K88. Ready to board, got myself an aisle seat, 18C! Right? Well, no sir, we should have closed the flight 4 minutes ago but we didn’t because the co-pilot just arrived from his weekend in South Beach. He hasn’t even been to bed yet, haha! But as soon as he washes the banana daiquiri stain from the collar of his uniform shirt, we’ll be on our way.

[BUMP]

In the meantime, sir, we had to give your seat away to one of our stand-by’s, a college student named Joe who’s been waiting here for three days to go visit his mother in prison. Poor kid hasn’t even had a bath much less a meal. But we still have availability for you in Row 75, Seat E, right in between a semi-professional bodybuilder with a 47" lat spread and a rather plump woman on her way to a weight loss camp. Hurry aboard.

[BUMP]

Board plane, inexplicably lose balance and slam into seat 18C, smile evilly to passengers 18A&B who have suddenly noticed a strange smell, proceed to cargo area, apologize to sequoia tree on legs while maneuvering into seat.

[BUMP]

So again, here I am on my flight back to Boston, enjoying a $3 bag of trail mix consisting of approximately 4 peanuts, 3 dried up pieces of what used to be imitation cranberry or raspberry plastics (no one’s really sure) and some crushed chocolate substance, and drinking my ginger ale and like I said everything’s really okay

[BUMP]

GODDAMMIT WILL YOU PLEASE SHUT THAT CHILD UP? OR AT LEAST PREVENT HER FROM KICKING THE BACK OF MY HEAD EVERY TWO MINUTES?

The bodybuilder and the plump lady shift in their seats, each giving me back a good inch of my seat space, looking at me with respect anew. The male flight attendant named Sunshine (yeah) is asking if there’s anything I need. I need a new bag of trail mix, thank you very much. As he walks away, eager to please me, I just know…

They’re not going to skimp on the plastic berries this time.

Life is good.

2 comments:

leah said...

I really hate to fly but I have a way to bear it. As soon as the plane hits 30,000 feet or whatever I order a scotch and tell the sky whore I don't want to see the bottom of this glass so keep the scotch coming.

Anonymous said...

Leah, I don't know you, but I already respect you.