As a result of the recent fuselage breakage incident that took place on a Southwest Boeing airplane, air travel has not been viewed in the most positive of lights. We all have certain fears about flying, and it is a rather serious endeavor, but I get such a thrill and pleasure out of the flying experience as a whole.
For me, most of the entertainment takes place in the airport. I love airports. I spend most of my time people watching and contemplating the endless possibilities of someone's "story" that I make up in my mind. Do you think that man and woman are dating? Hmm, their body language is a bit awkward and they are wearing professional clothes—maybe they are on a business trip?
Once it's time to go through security, make sure to have your identification and boarding pass readily available. The security guy hardly cracks a smile as I hand him my NY License and flimsy boarding pass. He takes out his handy dandy flashlight and grills my ID as if I am a terrorist hiding weapons in my Vera Bradley duffle. The girl in front of me looked like Lily Pulitzer barfed all over her, yet the guard was just as serious. Better safe than sorry.
If you are a frequent traveler, you are prepared for the routine that takes place at the security belt. By the time I'm up to the security belt, I've already got my laptop in hand, shoes off, liquids in plastic bags and jewelry clutched in my fist. Unfortunately, it is probable that you will get behind the traveler who takes their sweet time during this process, and when they approach the security belt, they have merely squinted at the sign to see what size liquids are acceptable. Three ounces, people.
If you manage to make it this far without being chosen at random for a full-body frisking, it's time to proceed to the gate listed on your ticket. All of a sudden, you are swarmed by travelers in every direction, and the airport begins to look more and more like a shopping mall. Something I find funny about airports is that regardless of the time of day, it seems acceptable to eat whatever you want before your flight. It's 9 a.m. and you're chomping down a Big Mac or a full chicken parm dinner? There's no way I am sitting near you on the plane.
"We are now boarding all passengers in group C." If you fly on a seat-yourself airline like Southwest, this announcement usually results in passengers swarming to their respective poles, anxious to fight for the last two window or aisle seats. Once you've mashed yourself in between those two people you saw eating McDonalds, you pray they won't start biting your ear off. Sure enough, the man sitting to your left has a niece who graduated from Loyola, so you can't help but dread the hours of forced enthusiasm that await you.
The flight attendant finally interrupts the painful conversation by offering free drinks. I obviously always choose to order a ginger ale because, as Mommy taught me when I was five, it settles your stomach. Suddenly, the plane begins to shake and the pilot gets on the loud speaker: "We are currently experiencing some turbulence in the area. We should start to fly smoothly again in about 10 minutes or so." As much as you can claim you have no fear of flying, you can't help but think for that split second, "What if we went down?" Then your heart starts beating out of your chest, and your hands get all clammy, and suddenly you are convincing yourself that there's no way the plane can crash because Rihanna is sitting three rows ahead of you, and how dare a plane crash with a superstar on board. The flight gets smooth again and you sigh to yourself in relief. The next song you choose to play on your iPod is Bob Marley's "Everything Is Gonna Be Alright."
As the plane begins to descend, the flight attendant catches you with your headphones in and iPod on and restates her words of authority, "ALL electronics must be powered OFF."
As soon as the wheels hit the ground and the plane has safely landed, you anxiously reach into your carry-on bag and turn your phone on. No text messages. No BBMs. Only an email from the New York Times. I guess you're really not as important as you think.
Once you've exited the plane, you weave through people and rush to the exit, nauseated yet heartwarmed by people holding "WELCOME HOME" signs and flowers for their loved ones. After spending hours of travel time people watching and curiously observing strangers, you can't help but wonder if anyone is looking at you and thinking to themselves: "What's her story?"
i really like this. remind me to read this on the morning of july 3rd
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