I Hate Flying

Remember when flying on a airplane was fun? …yeah, okay, neither do I. I just got back from a business trip to Salt Lake City, a trip that re-affirmed my distaste for flying.

Anytime I fly somewhere I have to psych myself up and keep saying to myself "It's only 3 hours (depending on the length of the flight), I can handle it". I have absolutely no fear of flying, in fact I've always thought that plummeting out of the sky at 600 miles per hour and cratering into the ground like meteor wouldn't be all that bad of a way to go. But I do hate flying. For one thing, being over 6 foot tall there is no way for me to be comfortable. My legs feel cramped, my back hurts, and my head is too high above the back of the seat to rest it comfortably there. Then there is the question of the armrest - who gets it? On my flight from Seattle to Salt Lake City we were flying on a 757 - basically a very long tube with 3 seats on each side of the aisle. I was in seat 37A (next to the window), in 37B and 37 C were two guys roughly the size of me (6 foot 1, around 215 pounds - i.e. "XL"). We could not have been more uncomfortable. I felt obligated to give the guy in the middle the armrest so this required me to sit somewhat sideways with my left shoulder resting on the side of the airplane wall. The result of flying in this position was an extremely sore back by the time we got to Salt Lake City.

Why is it that everyone feels the need to stand up as soon as the plane reaches the gate? If you are in the 37th row you won't be going anywhere for at least 10-15 minutes as everyone in front of you gathers their stuff and slowly makes there way out of the plane. I was certainly relieved to have the guy next to me stand up, but because I was in the window seat I had to remain seated - with a close up view of the guys butt in my face. Nice.

As bad as the flight to Salt Lake City was, it was nothing compared to the flight back home. Our flight was scheduled to depart at 8:25 am - which meant we had to wake up at 5:00 am (4:00 am Seattle time) in order to check out of our hotel and get to the airport in time to go through all the security lines. At exactly 8:10 am we got the call to start boarding our plane. Unlike the giant tube we flew on to SLC, we were now flying home on a tiny "commuter" type jet that probably held 50 people max.

The seating on the plane was "2 and 2", meaning there are 2 seats on each side of the aisle. When I checked in for the trip home I decided to quickly see if there were any seats open that appeared to be better than the one I currently had. I was supposed to be in 10B - an aisle seat. But I saw that seat 5A was open (being close to the front of the plane is always good - you get off the plane quicker) so I decided to change my seat….HUGE mistake.

When I got on the plane I quickly found seat 5A and I sat down and watched the other passengers file into the plane. The seat next to me remained empty…until, to my horror, I saw "it" coming towards me. As I silently chanted to myself "PLEASE GOD NO!!!" a very large woman in way too tight jeans, a ratty looking "hoody" sweatshirt with a pair of cheapo looking red framed sunglasses propped on top of her head (she was also wearing regular glasses) stopped next to seat 5B and said "Looks like this is my seat!". As she did so, she gave me a wide smile revealing dental work the likes of which I had not seen since my 9 year old son Jake carved his Halloween pumpkin. Just as I was about to say "Oh goody" she dropped her heavy carryon bag onto the magazines and my iPod that I had put in the seat next to me (in anticipation of not having anyone sit there). With annoyance in my voice I said "Can I get my stuff first!" and I dug the items out from under her bag. Once she got her bag put away she turned around and with a large amount her "muffin top" flab exposed above her jeans she squeezed into the seat. Recoiling in horror I tried to meld myself into the side of the plane in my best effort to avoid the blubber that was oozing towards me. Just as it appeared that she was going to try and strike up a conversation with me I grabbed one of my magazines and pretended to be engrossed in a story about India's Bollywood movies. Seeing that I was not interested in talking she quickly turned to the people seated around us and within a 5 minute span we were all informed that: 1) She had missed her flight last night and had to spend the night in the airport (hence the funky smell she was emanating), 2) She's flying from Maine to Alaska to move in with her boyfriend who has already been living there for 3 years and 3) She just wrapped up her divorce to her husband the day before…evidently her ex never even bothered to show up in court, can't say I blame him (Like me, you are probably confused by the math on all of this…but there was no way I was going to ask her any questions.).

So as I sat there in my private hell I kept telling myself "it's a short flight, it's a short flight, it's a short…" when the pilot came on the PA and said "Folks…(it's never good when they start off saying "Folks") we just got word from the flight controllers in Seattle that they are not allowing flights in due to fog there, so we are in a hold until we get clearance from them. We are going to go ahead and taxi out to the de-icing station and then hopefully they'll tell us we can go-ahead and take-off once we are done there". Now since I have lived in Seattle almost my entire life I know the fog there does not burn off quickly this time of year so I was not very optimistic about a quick departure. Turns out I was right. Soon after the de-icing process was complete the pilot came back on the PA and said "Folks (not good)…we are in a half hour hold so we are going to taxi out to a spot near the runway and hold there until we get clearance to go…"

Two and a half hours later…the pilot comes back on the PA (for like the 6th time) and says "Folks (sh*t!)…we've decided that we've waited out here long enough and we are going to take you back to the terminal so you can get out and stretch your legs. Hopefully we'll be on our way again soon…" Groans are heard throughout the cabin and the Wal-Mart Calendar Girl sitting next to me almost starts to cry as she says "I'll never get to Alaska!". Finally we reach the gate and everyone begins to de-plane and just when the first people off the plane reach the end of the sky bridge a airline representative stops us and says "We've got clearance to take off!". So we turned around and back into the plane we trudged.

And more than three hours after our scheduled departure had come and gone - we were finally in the air. I spent the next hour and a half with my iPod earphones cranking out loud music into my ears and trying to astro-project myself to a "happy-place". Finally we touched down in Seattle and when we did the Alaska bound beluga next to me said aloud to no-one in particular "I'm so tired of airports and airplanes…."

Amen to that sister, Amen to that....