The Rapture of Air Travel

Note:  For all I complain about what airline travel is like these days, it’s still important to remember that a giant metal tube is able to transport me by FLYING.  That’s pretty freakin amazing.  But these were the random thoughts I jotted down yesterday during my latest travels…

  • I thought I had learned that early flights should never be an option for me.  This morning I rinsed my juice glass with the hand also holding my cell phone.  Well played 5:00a.m., well played.
  • On the way to the airport, I discovered the POTUS was flying in that afternoon.  Oh joy.  Traffic was not all a ruckus yet with closed roads and alternate routes but it explained why so many cops were starting to assemble on the parkway leading to the airport – the one with the 55 mph speed limit that no one comes close to following at any time except the day I am going to the airport.
  • Remember when travel seemed kind of exotic and wondrous?  I think that died when we started having to take off our shoes for security.  On the plus side, it is kind of a great equalizer to look around at all the haughty folks (yeah, you know who you are, Mr. Important Businessman and Ms. Fancy Fake Tan LV Girl) and see their worn socks and chipping toenail polish.
  • I will do anything to avoid checking a bag.  Anything.  It used to just be my Code Red level of anxiety over lost luggage (when I travel, I only take my absolute best crap!), but now it’s also anger about paying $35 on top of my ticket.  Today I am mighty proud of a carry-on that contains:
  1. “Business casual” for 8 days
  2. Recruitment materials, including a table cover and pennant
  3. Ample supply of snacks (although I forgot my beloved cheese sticks)
  4. 2 pairs of shoes
  5. Hastily shoved casual items that may or may not create an actual non-work outfit or two

Because I pack Like a Boss!  Thank you Spacebags.  But despite my adherence to industry guidelines, Delta seems to have an unrealistic expectation of what size a carry-on bag must be.  They were shaming folks by having them try to stick their bags into that metal cage by the gate door.  Uh oh.  That’s the size of the backpack I’m shoving under the seat.  Then I heard the lovely announcement offering to check bags to my final destination (free) since overhead space would be gone by the time Zone 4 boarded.  SCORE ONE for the gal in Zone 4!  If I had known this was going to happen I would have let out the zipper expansion and stuffed another inch of crap in.  But there’s always the way home.

  • Today I’m picking on Delta but I’m not loyal to any one airline.  I have useless frequent flyer miles with them all.  The only people loyal to one airline are the people who don’t have to pay for the ticket. Work only pays for this one trip a year and even then I’m going with whatever is cheaper because I’m not a total douche.  Anyway, Delta.  They don’t offer drinks on a flight from CLT to ATL.  What?  How am I going to get my free serving of veggies AKA bloody mary mix?  Every other airline manages to tackle this task on such a short flight.
  • Leg two of trip: flight oversold but as usual I debate too long with myself about if I want to give up my seat.  Curiously, as they scan my boarding pass I am printed out a new seat assignment – did I do something wrong?  Then I see it says Exit Row.  SCORE TWO wins today!  But the flight attendant can only find room for my backpack in first class, and there’s a cranky old coot who snaps at her about how she better not touch his bag because that’s his overhead bin and they should make “those people” check their bags instead of using his bin.  I give him equal crank telling him it’s not my fault I was just assigned to an exit row.  Like he cares.  I have way more legroom than he has though, and I fouled his first class air with my economy bag.
View from the exit row of a 757, suckas!

View from the exit row of a 757, suckas!

  • Phoenix was windy.  Really windy.  So much so that for the first time in years I thought I was going to hurl on an airplane.  Nausea makes every trip more magical.  Breathe.  Calm.  Breathe.  Think of how amazing the big metal tube is getting me from here to there…
Sunrise from my ridiculously expensive room at the Westin.

Sunrise from my ridiculously expensive room at the Westin.


About deepfriedyankee

I am a parade of one. A seeker of bathtubmarys. A lover of Mardi Gras, bacon and marbles. I have the patience of a saint. A very, very flawed saint.
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