My wife and I recently returned from a quick trip to see my parents for Thanksgiving. The trip in of itself was great; it was the airline experience that always seems to be something less than desirable….
I like to fly. I get geared up when it’s time to book a flight, pack my bags and head to the airport. Fantasy seems to crash to reality as soon as I get to the airport.
First, there is checking of bags. Most of us seem to be familiar enough with printing out our tickets ahead of time. I even have an app that lets me hold on to my boarding pass on my phone! It’s pretty cool to go through security and the gate with my phone as my boarding pass, let me tell you! It’s not the boarding pass at the ticket counter that gets me, it’s checking the bags. There is a 50lb limit on each bag; otherwise you have to pay an extra fee. Most airlines now charge a fee just to check a bag. I have a friend who recently told me the airline was charging him $20 to check a bag or $25 to carry one on! Are you kidding me??
Next is the security line. I’ve got my electronic boarding pass in hand, my bag has been checked, and I now get to stand in line so someone can verify I actually belong there! Side topic…Have you ever noticed that the one who bypasses the normal security and head straight to the “Premier” line carry themselves with a bit more pious than the rest of us, or is it just me??? Oh well, I digress. So here I am in the “cattle” line waiting for the TSA agent to check my boarding pass and ID against my actual face. I’ve often wondered if I went for several tanning sessions, shaved my head and my goatee, and started wearing glasses, would they not let me in because I didn’t look like the picture on my driver’s license? What if I gained a bunch of weight and my license says I weigh less than my actual weight (wait a minute; I already do that…never mind!) I finally get to the head of the security line (why is it that I always seem to get behind the family of six with four kids that ALL need to have their tickets checked??) and the TSA agent looks at my electronic boarding pass, my ID, compares my face with the picture, clears me through and sends me to the next line. I wonder what the TSA agent would do if I made a face when they held my ID up to me to compare the picture?? I’ve always wondered that…. Ok, so I’ve made it through the first layer of security. Now comes the disassembly portion of air travel - pockets cleaned out, belt off, shoes off, laptop computer out, toiletries out… I get everything loaded on to the conveyor belt so another TSA agent can look into my personal belongings just in case I packed something I shouldn’t have, such as more than 4 oz bottle of shampoo, etc. Still another TSA agent waives me through the body scanner, tells me to raise my hands above my head, don’t breath (makes me feel like I’m getting an x-ray at the doctor’s office), then has me step out. One more TSA agent pats me down because I failed to take my watch off, then finally lets me retrieve my belongings. Here’s where the reassembly begins….I’ve take my belt, shoes, money, boarding pass, laptop, backpack, jacket, etc. and scurry to a bench so I can redress and repack. Whew! I’m finally through and I haven’t lost my cool yet!
Now it’s time to head to the gate. I find another line for $10 coffee, pay it because they have me captive, and find my gate. I look around for a place to sit, but of course one guys is taking up two seats (him and his bag), another is laying across three more, a third is yelling at her child to “Get over here, NOW!” and a fourth doesn’t look like they want company. I finally find a place to sit on the floor and wait for them to board the plane.
“Welcome to Super Duper Airlines, flight XXX, with service to XXX. We will begin general boarding soon; first we would like to offer early boarding for all our elite members and first class passengers.” Now don’t lie, you know just as well as I do that you immediately begin to measure yourselves up with those “elite” travelers, don’t you? Are their clothes any nicer? Are they more attractive than me? Do they even look “elite?” What makes them more special than me? Finally my boarding group is called. It’s funny how defensive we get when someone “cuts” in front of us as we’re waiting to board the plane. I’m just as guilty as the next guy, let me tell you! I have to remind myself that the plane isn’t going anywhere until everyone has boarded, anyway. I think it’s the race to get your bag (that you paid $25 extra dollars to carry on!) into an overhead bin that’s not already full. Nothing’s worse than having to place your carry on in a bin that’s NOT directly above your seat! What if I need something out of there during the flight? What if someone mistakes my bag for theirs and carries it off the plane before I can retrieve it? Oh, the anxiety is nearly too much to bear while in flight!
Ok, I’m on the plane and making my way to my seat. I’m looking to see if the “double armrest guy” is sitting in the middle seat. You know the guy; he’s the one that thinks he’s entitled to take up both armrests during the entire flight because he’s stuck in the middle. I guess I’m that guy too whenever I get the middle seat…it’s just a rite of passage for all of those “middle seaters.” I say hello and point to the window seat next to him. He grunts and tries to make himself skinny while I contort myself into my seat. The seat in front of me is literally an inch from my knees, my butt does it’s best to fit, and I try to settle in. Until we take off I flip through the Super Duper Airlines Magazine and read about all the great places they go. The pictures are glossy and photoshopped to enhance the attraction of going there. At that moment the memories of baggage claim, security, the gate and boarding process is still fresh in my mind and I swear I will never fly anywhere again! They can have their getaway, glossy photos and all!
Midway through the flight I realize that I probably shouldn’t have bought that $10 coffee before I got on the plane. The middle guy is sleeping, the aisle guy is reading, and I’ve got to go! I gently nudge middle guy, ask him if I can get out, get a glare from aisle guy, and slide by as I head to the back of the plane. I don’t dare go to the front of the plane; oh no, that’s for first class passengers only! I wonder if their bathroom is nicer than mine? I stand in line once again, waiting for my turn in the bathroom. Of course, I’m waiting for the kid who’s in their playing with the water. He’s the same kid whose mother told him at the gate to “Get over here, NOW!” I guess if I was him I’d probably lock myself in the bathroom for the duration of the flight too… He finally steps out and I say, “Hey little man, did you leave any water in there for me?” He just stares blankly at me and reluctantly returns to his seat next to mom.
Finally, after what seems like an all day long flight, we are wheels down and getting ready to land. Middle guy grips both armrests, aisle guy acts like he’s done this a million times, but I can see the fear in his eyes, and we touch down. Cell phones are turned on, voicemails are retrieved, phone calls are made, and we slowly taxi our way to the gate. What seems like an eternity to begin, people start deplaning. Aisle guy is now standing in the aisle, middle guy is standing next to aisle guy, and I’m seated, watching to make sure that neither of them takes my carry on out of the bin! I promise you both, I will get that mother over here and she’ll scream at you to “Put that bag down, NOW” if you do! At last, I’m off the plane and walking to the terminal and baggage claim. It’s time to get my $20 checked bag, flag down the car rental shuttle, retrieve my car and head to the hotel. As I settle in I decide to shower off the “airplane dust,” as my wife refers to it, and try to muster the strength to do it all over again on my return trip home.
A Common Man
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