So I realize I have been pretty much MIA for most of the last 2ish weeks. I was out of town for work, then in Seattle to visit a friend. THEN I had to fly home. I tolerate flying because I realize it is a much easier way to commute to many places. I actually love the whole airport scene (more about that later) but I hate the actual time on the airplane. The breathing recirculated air, sitting in seats too small for my large ass, next to strangers in a large tube with wings doesn't really settle to well with me. I really hate take off's and landings. And I really don't like flying on anything smaller than a 737.
Sunday night I probably experienced the WORST flying experience of my life (and I've flow a decent amount of times). Things were going well until I got to my gate. I am one of those people that waits until the last possible minute to board the plane to avoid sitting on the plane any longer than necessary so I walked up to my gate at 5:55 pm. Boarding was supposed to start at 5:50pm. Every body was still just sitting around so I left to peruse some of the airport stores. I return at 6:10. Same scene, everybody was just sitting around. Considering my place was supposed to leave at 6:20 I figured I should stay close to see just how late my plane was going to be. FINALLY, around 6:30, they start boarding. I am lingering around, letting everyone else board when all the sudden, about halfway through boarding the plane, a whole bunch of TSA agents come running down the hall and block of the entire wing of the airport we were in. The little amber lights start going off and they stop boarding due to 'a security breach' (i.e. someone made it threw security with nail clippers...or maybe something more seriously like a 4 oz bottle of mouth wash!). We stand on one side of the rope (and the line of overweight and/or scrawny TSA agents, including one that had a very obvious limp) while the rest of the airport stands on the other side. Staring at each other like idiots. I finally ask one of the TSA agents whats going on and she rudely responds "ma'am (I hate it when people call me ma'am), I'm not at liberty to say.". Seriously, you are delaying my flight and my life might be in danger (or you know I might be in danger of being attacked by someone with a 5 oz container of hairspray) and she can't tell me what's going on. Now I'm just pissed. So I make myself comfy, sipping my venti iced chai (thank god I got a venti!) waiting for the airport to explode or for some crazy women with a manicure set to come running down the hallway, when all the sudden the TSA agents disperse and boarding resumes. Really, I didn't even get to see any action? Was it horrible that all I wanted at the moment was for something dramatic to happen?
SOOO, anywho, if your still reading, I am surprised. But for those of you who are still reading, I continue. I finally get on the plane (for the record, I think I was 2nd to last to boarding the plane). I sit down in my seat (or more correctly, squeeze my ass into the chair) and realize that one of the reason's I felt so cramped is because the asshole sitting next to me (not a fat guy by any standards) feels he needs to air his balls out and sit with his legs spread apart while simultaneously (and continuously throughout the flight) poking me in the side with his elbow because, apparently, hogging the entire armrest wasn't enough for him.
Then apparently the de-icing machine isn't working (comforting) so we sit there for 45 minutes waiting for them to de-ice the plane. Just sit there. Did I mention that because it was cold they felt they needed to turn the temperature in the plane up to 175 degree Celsius? And did I mention that the little saviour of an airstream wasn't turned on because they were in that power down mode they go into before take off? Did I mention I couldn't leave my seat because the fucking seat belt sign was on? Did I mention I still had an entire 1 1/2 hour long flight ahead of me?
The plane finally takes off and it starts vibrating the second we start moving. And I'm not talking about a comforting, light vibrating. I am talking about the vibrating bed type vibrating. Hard vibrating bed type vibrating. As a side note, have any of you actually ever seen a vibrating bed in a hotel? I haven't...but I digress. This oh-so-NOT-comforting-vibrating continues for the ENTIRE hour and half flight! The ENTIRE flight I felt like I was sitting on top of a unbalanced washing machine. And then, about a half hour into the flight they finally begin the drink service. Luckily, they started at my row because after they poured my drink (and the asshole next to me's drink) the turbulence begins. The turbulence that is so bad (and is projected to last the remainder of the flight) that they decide to cancel the drink service. At least I convinced the steward to give me may drink before he took the cart away (even though he had poured it, he wasn't going to give it to me because of the turbulence).
So for the next 45 minutes I sat there, vibrating and bouncing up and down, sweating to death and being poked in my fat side by the asshole next to me until the captain FINALLY announced we were descending into Reno. It wasn't until we finally started descending that the vibrating stopped. By then I was in such a shitty mood and felt like I had just had the crap beaten out of me that I was a complete bitch getting off the plane and pretty much pushed people out of my way to get off the plane.
So instead of getting home around 8:30 on Sunday evening, I got home around 11 and still felt like I was vibrating by the time I got home. Needless to say I used this as an excuse for why I came in late and barely did shit all day at work on Monday (post traumatic stress...I mean I was in a serious security breach in the airport and then my plane almost crashed!). I still don't quite feel right.
Was that a good enough excuse for not posted in so long? Or should I have just stuck with something like my dog ate my computer?
Tasty Temptations
Cooking has always been the one thing where, when I am doing it, nothing else in the world seems to matter. I can cook for minutes or I can cook for hours, but no matter how long I can cook for, I always find myself feeling more like 'me' when I am done. Plus there is no better excuse to drink by yourself than while you are cooking a great meal (All those drunken chefs out there can thank Julia for making this acceptable).
Me and a few of my friends have decided to create a place to share our love of cooking....check us out here.
Me and a few of my friends have decided to create a place to share our love of cooking....check us out here.
Can't find something?
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Post tramatic stress syndrome
Posted by Ginger at 12:24 PM
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
stifling laughs over here....also how many times did you call yourself fat in this post?
this was definitelty a more entertaining way to excuse your self from posting.
I'm sorry your flight was hell...I know that guy...mr time to air my a balls...I hate that guy. I wish I could be like my friend Maria and shout in public to a guy doing this. She always says "Sir can you please close your legs so I can sit in this other seat" LOL! I so want to do this one day. The guys never know what to say!
i would have been so pissed to have all that excitement and then not even see anyone get tackled and handcuffed or anything gosh
Post a Comment