Air. Travel. Sucks. Three words that roll right off my tongue and onto the Tarmac… where they linger for hours on end. I could rant and scream about the injustice of it all, but I’ve decided I won’t. No. Not me. I’m going tell you what I LOVE about air travel…
- You get to see a side of humans you just never thought possible. Can flight attendants really be that heartless? Watching individuals clearly incapable of lifting a piece of luggage over their heads struggle and struggle with near amusement on their faces? Amazing.
- You get arrive at your gate only to discover that the plane you’re boarding is so small, no carry-on bags bigger than a computer case will fit in the overheads, so you must tag your own bag, and even load and unload it upon departure and arrival. How much was that ticket? And you charged me for the bag I already checked?
- You get to enjoy the aromas of McDonald’s, Cinnabon, Quizno’s, California Pizza Kitchen, and even the occassional home-made fish snack ALL AT ONCE in a CONTAINED SPACE!
- You get to rub shoulders (and elbows and knees and even feet) with some of the finest specimens of humans in their various stages of evolution… and, yes, some still have gills. Or smell like they do.
- You get to hear details of business transactions, sexcapades, and parental woes – of which you care absolutely nothing – over cell phone conversations by passengers who have never, ever heard the phrase, “inside voices”
- And, my personal favorite, you get to be subjected to some of the most vapid conversations by passengers oblivious to their own stupidity. My favorite occurred this morning… “I thought this nail polish was going to be more olive; more dirty martini olive.”