It’s a fact that I hate airplanes. Like how the grass is green, sky is blue, and homework is illegal. I’m still waiting for the day that NASA will invent a new form of commercial travel. Floating bubbles maybe?
It’s ironic that I’m scared of them, especially since they’re one of the main travel modes. Also, I like heights, and driving at fast speeds, it’s just being boxed up in a metal bird kinda freaks me out a lot.
In order to board a plane you need to go through millions of security checks. Necessary? Absolutely. Fun? Not in the least. I tend to freak out whenever I walk through a metal detector, wondering whether the metal button on my jeans in will get me arrested.
Frankly, I don’t really mind duty free but it doesn’t really get me pumping. So I’ll be waiting in the lounge, staring through the foggy windows, the flashing lights as the trucks hook up the planes. It looks pretty scary up close and that sterilized lemon smell in the plane? Eugh.
I have nothing against flight attendants. In fact, I admire the courage they have to be in a plane for so long. What I do protest against is that tone they use. The smile, like they’re welcoming you to your very own tropical paradise. I’ve gone completely claustrophobic by this time, and my head has begun to spin. I cram myself into the seat and take a deep breath.
Infinity passes before the captain’s voice comes on, wishing everyone a safe and happy voyage. Then the flight attendants come up to give a safety demonstration. I’m no ‘professional flight researcher’ but I guess that about one out of a thousand people will actually pay attention.
The other 999 are browsing the inflight magazine, listening to music, working (or pretending to) or watching with slight interest, keenly waiting for the movie selection. After the attendants sit down, I always feel a pang of guilt for not paying attention-maybe next time?
I always make a schedule for the long haul flights- I’d like to spend the first hour reading, maybe listen to music and then see the movie selection. Instead, I lounge back (to annoy the people behind me) and turn the movie on, not a second after takeoff. It’s great. Two of my favourite movies which I missed ‘cause of exams. So I plug the headphones in, and jab at the buttons with intensifying fury until the movie starts. It’s awful. Literally the whole Percy Jackson cast has been condensed into a tiny box, all their fights distorted. Any chance of the movie working, and then the captain’s voice will perk up again to remind you that salted peanuts are on their way.
The food comes, and a nauseous feeling sets in. The wrapped up foil dish doesn’t look too appetizing and you remind yourself that you won’t get food for the next 5 hours or so with all likelihood that the Starbucks in a foreign country may not have your ideal Starbucks beverage.
Hooray! You made touchdown. I feel a surge of relief and begin to shake out the pins and needles from my legs. You say goodbye to the ladies standing at the entrance, this time with a spring in your step and sprint up the ramp, away from the plane.
That’s an honest first rate description of almost every flight for me. And yeah I guess that maybe I really do hate airplanes, but without them I’d be unable to travel.
I’d hate that even more.
Pic credits- Unfortunately most of my flights happen at obscene hours where I’m unable to use flash or get a good shot- this one’s from tumblr.