Flying has never been more uncomfortable. I’m at the airport so much lately that I’ve pre-programmed Uber to use my apartment as HOME and LaGuardia Airport at OFFICE. No, I’m not even kidding. One of the worst parts of traveling these days is navigating around the antsy crowd that gathers at the boarding area at least twenty minutes before anyone is even called to the door. It’s almost like a flash mob. They sometimes move like they are doing a pre-coordinated wave at a football game. They also tend to form an impenetrable barrier so that nobody can pass. People! We are all getting there at the same time! What is with all the blocking and the pushing?
Once aboard, it’s a scene. Flying has turned into a competitive sport. My bag bumps into every knee as I bob and weave down the aisle to find my seat. Were the aisles always this narrow? Next is the race for overhead space. And the tension! They tell you before you board that there isn’t enough room for everyone’s bag to fit. So iIt’s like a contest of whose carryon will stay and whose will be banished to the ugly, dark underbelly of the cargo pit never to be seen or heard from again! Why do they make the compartments so dang small, you ask? It’s a classic case of space jam– packing us in like sardines to make more money.
After the overhead smoosh and smash, it’s time for row specific antics. You’ve already jockeyed for position, and now you have to negotiate for the arm rest! The seats are too small, the snacks have downsized considerably and the average weight of a person seems to have gone up too. (Present company included.) I don’t need a seatbelt extender, but I’m wondering how folks weighing even a few pounds more than me even manage! And once you’ve achieved cruising altitude, the guy in front of you decides to recline, so that his seat is just inches from your face. And even with all of this, flying still amazes me!
Just by taking a massive running start those big birds can fly! It is truly incomprehensible to me how this happens. It’s all still very Judy Jetson if you ask me, even though travel has become part of my week-to-week corporate existence. And I know the routine in the skies, too. The flight attendants cross checking the plane before takeoff. Their brisk walk through the cabin with their hands skimming the overheads. The curt rustle and tack of the first-class curtain creating a line in the sand between them and us. The way the extra compartments move from the middle of the drink cart and clip to the sides of the rolling elbow killer as practiced smiling faces offer you a watery ice drink to complement those pull-tab cans and mini bev naps.
After shifting in your seat any number of times to just get some semblance of comfort, it’s tray tables up and locked and a final check of the cabin by the crew before landing. Once again the flight attendants do their thing and sure enough, you’re back on the ground.
I’ve never wanted to be an astronaut. The thought of blasting off into space would give me chest pains, not a rush of adrenalin. I guess flying is just not my jam. But hey, right now it’s how I make my bacon…. so I go with the flow or I’d be toast.
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