Turbulence. Up next to death, this is by far my biggest
fear. Although turbulence doesn’t lead
to death, it could be the beginning of the descent down to your death, therefor;
this is why it is by far my biggest fear.
I’m typing this on my phone and if you are reading this,
then either I landed and posted it, or I haven’t landed… but please excuse the
typos.
It is safe to say I am not a good flyer.
“ There is a colonial woman on the wing. There is something
they’re not telling us. She was out there churning butter. She was churning
butter!”
-
Bridesmaids
(2011)
That quote is both true and terrifyingly accurate.
I start fearing turbulence weeks before my flight. I have nightmares about it the night before
and then on the plane. I spend the
majority of my time on the flight waiting for it. The slightest bump on in the air send me into
a complete panic grabbing my arm rest and in most cases, we haven’t even taken
off yet.
My brother was on a flight once and told me that that the
turbulence was SO bad the air masks came down and people were puking and
screaming. I have never been on anything
that bad, but thanks to him I now have a vivid description burned into my brain
for reference.
My first flight was when I was 15. There were several occasions that my parents
wanted to take me on a flight, but being a child of the 80’s, and having the
permission to watch anything on TV my view points on air travel were influenced
strongly by the coverage of airplane crashes all over the world. Meaning, there was no way in hell I was going
to get on a plane.
My parents were forced to travel without me. Wait a second….
Anyway the point is that I’m now on a plane and Oprah always
said to trust your gut and my gut is now telling me that I’m screwed. I’m pretty sure this is the end.
Although the clouds look lovely and it is quite scenic there
must be an undercurrent, or whatever you call it in the air and it is sucking
us under forcing the plane to shift every way its is not suppose to.
If I land I will need to buy a new shirt because I’m
confident I have sweat through this one.
I keep looking at the flight attendant who must have had a horrible
childhood to choose a profession like this. She is a beverage serving masochist.
I wonder if I should wake the man up across from me and tell
him we are going down. Is he asleep or did he pass out? It’s hard to tell. How can anyone sleep when our lives are
entrusted to some guy I don’t even know. Who, if it is the same guy I think it
is, looks like he was old enough to be at a Fraternity party last night.
What are pilot’s credentials anyway? I have a friend who is a pilot and I’m pretty
sure he just took an online class. He is always online too. Maybe that is why
we are so bumpy. The pilot is looking at pics he has been tagged in last night.
Why aren’t we allowed to ask any questions? I have had my
hand in the air for the past 23 minutes
and nobody has called on me. She probably knows I’m going to ask the hard
questions like, “Are we going to die?”
Or “ Is this the end?”
Maybe if I close my eyes and pray this will get better.
Nope.
I think I’m having a heart attack.
Seriously, why can’t we read up on the pilot before we get
on the plane. It reminds me of the guy
at the fair who buckled me in to the zipper ride before propelling me into the
air in a steel cage, only to toss me around and make me sick. I’m not seeing much of a difference, except
at the end I don’t get an elephant ear. I don’t get anything. Not even a bag of
peanuts or pretzels.
Or maybe, it’s not the pilot, it’s the plane, its’ a lemon!
The lady in front of me seems suspiciously calm. If she
wants to read about Bruce, I mean Caitlin Jenner in her final moments then fine
by me. I can read over her shoulder, but
I’m not going to like it.
Why did the Wright brothers think this was a good idea? I mean,
can you imagine what their mother must have felt when they told her they were
going to fly? Just yesterday Oscar
thought it would be a good idea to try and pole vault over a log with a twig. I
didn’t encourage that.
Maybe it would have been a good thing if we all stuck to
ground transportation. We would still
see regional dialects. Those are pretty
much null. Why? Because of air travel. Disease is spread, How? Through air travel.
When I was a kid we traveled by motorhome. (Thanks to my obnoxious
and paralyzing fear of flying.) And it was safe. Except for the time that we
were cruising down the interstate and the Hell’s Angels bike gang surrounded
our motorhome. I remember is my mom screaming, “Kids just look straight ahead!”
Don’t look them in the eye!” And we all did, and they passed us. Although I
gave one grizzly guy the side eye and I swear he winked.
I would do that 100 times again than to be stuck in this
coffin in the sky.
Did our pilot just hit the breaks? What. The. Hell. Are we actually traveling backwards or does
it just feel that way? IS there a
drivers Ed program for pilots? And if
so, are we unwilling participants?
Okay, I see land. It
is so beautiful. Well, it’s NJ, but to me it looks like Heaven.
And we are on the ground.
After an eternity trying to get off the plane I have to
wonder why people put their luggage behind them in the overhead compartments. I
mean, if each person is allowed one bag, then that should mean you put it over
your head. Now this guy is forcing everyone to the back of the plane because he
has to get his stupid bag.
4 aisles behind where he was.
I’m off.
What every happened to travel companions? I need one. I’m a mess. I followed an old man into a
corner looking for my terminal. He said
he doesn’t like this airport either and that he would help me find my
gate. A senior citizen heading to
Florida is helping me find my gate. I need help finding a Starbucks first.
They don’t have a Starbucks, but something that kind of
looks like that. Caffeine is probably not what I need, but Phil said he could
go for one too.
After a nice conversation and a shuttle ride that only a
sign that only a person who can read brail could find, Phil cut the cord.
His Florida gate isn’t close to my Baltimore gate, but he
wished me well and dare I say, he looked worried when we parted. Where
is my best friend when I need her? My
mom recently admitted to putting me on a leash when I was a kid as we toured
Washington DC. Now I know why I have attachment issues. But I would give
anything to be tethered to someone right now that knew where he or she was
going.
As I was walking a nice looking middle-aged woman came up to
me smiling. “Where did you find
Starbucks?” she desperately asked. I told her it wasn’t Starbucks, but a
lackluster imposter, located in a land far away in a place called concourse A.
And now I wait. Wait
to board a plane to go through this all over again.
According to Joe, who just came up to me to ask my name and ask how I was doing, and me answering him asking for the wifi code, Newark International Airport, along with Laguardia are the only airports in the US without complimentary Wifi. Hence, typing on my phone. And another reason not to fly.
If you are reading this, I’m still here. But let it be
known, that I will never fly again..after my layover. Except on Sunday, when I go back home..
unless I rent a car. We’ll see.
