While in a 600 MPH flying tube to my birthday destination, I made some observations. I’m not calling them interesting–more curious.
- Why, on flights, can’t the personnel use normal terminology? On the Mexican immigration form, it asked for my surname (yes, I had to pause and think about it) and port of embarkation. I bet over 20% of the people on the plane answered incorrectly. Why not just say “last name” and “where are you coming from?” Stupid. Or, maybe I’m stupid because I haven’t properly stowed my iPad. Stowed? Really? Couldn’t the stewardess say, “Put your stuff away” and stop showing off with fancy words only used in flying tubes? She won’t be a flight attendant to me until she does.
- Why does the life-of-the-party guy have to sit near me? He’s not friendly; he’s trying too fucking hard. Some people (me) don’t want to have a conversation with people (you). We want to read the magazine in the pouch and avoid thinking about how awful plummeting to earth would be, with or without floatation devices.
- The people who work for the airline must have been told by someone that when they speak into a public address microphone, they become instant standup comedians. They don’t. They’re ten times worse than anyone at the most remote open mic night. Ole Jack Benny in a vest broke out this one today: “Hey folks, just a little reminder that here in Mexico you’re no longer on Pacific Standard Time; you’re on … party time.” Uk, uk, uk, uk … he’s a riot.
- Why are toddlers so fascinated by the people (me again) in the row behind them? Don’t they see people outside of the tube? I don’t look any different in row 26 than I do pushing a grocery cart. This little fucker is fishing for compliments and I’m not biting. He’s not cute. He’s making me paranoid. Ew, now he’s pushing his little finger fries through the crack in the seat while his parents sit catatonic and I push them back with my stirrer.
- Jesus, who farted?
- Why does airline coffee taste like it’s two days old?
- Who decided that pretzels and peanuts make good flight snacks? Who goes to the store and buys a mix of peanuts and pretzels? No-fucking-body! How about Doritos, corn chips, or the most obvious: potato chips? They aren’t any less healthy than the salty lumps of crap they serve.
- Why do people cheer when the plane lands? It happens thousands of times a day and only rarely doesn’t. In fact, when it doesn’t happen, nobody can offer much of a critique anyway. When the cab pulls to the curb, I don’t clap. When the barista hands me my coffee, he hears no applause. When I shut my front door and my house doesn’t crumble into the earth, I don’t cheer. It’s supposed to happen that way and no additional appreciation need be shown for the ordinary. If the pilot landed the plane, did four 360s, and a rear-axle wheelie, I’d give that fucker props, especially if I can turn back on my electronic devices.