And every time I was slogging through the airport with a
throng of other unhappy and bedraggled travelers, I thought about how flying
used to be awesome.
Or so I’ve heard.
Flights in the 50s and 60s sounded incredible. People would
dress up, and it was an OCCASION. They would be served champagne on these
flights, and being a flight attendant was a glamourous and sought-after job.
Again, so I’ve heard. This ended long before I was born.
The first time I flew was to Las Vegas, and I was thirteen.
I don’t have much of a memory of it, but I can tell you it was pre-September
11, so security was probably not a big deal. Every other flight I took, though,
came after September 11. And they've all been kind of miserable.
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| That's why so many of us end up buying $15 drinks at airports. |
I know these poor TSA agents are just doing their jobs, but
it really sucks to be treated like a criminal every single time you go through
airport security. My mom was randomly selected (twice!) on this trip to be
searched, hand swabs and all. I’ve seen security treat 80-year-old men wobbling
on canes dangerous security risks. I was pulled aside coming home from
Portland, Maine because I had two souvenir candles in my bag. They had to be
tested for explosives. Last year, James was pulled aside because Sioux Falls
TSA thought the selfie stick in his bag was a weapon. I was screamed at – no joke,
screamed at – in San Jose this year because I had not taken my DSLR camera out
of my backpack.
Obviously, dressing up on planes is a thing of the loooooong
past. You’ll see seas of leggings and sweatpants, with the occasional suited
business traveler standing out like a sore thumb. I myself wore leggings for
many flights this year, but I did ensure my shirt was long enough so they could
sort of pass as pants. Sort of. I will, however, NEVER wear pajama pants to the
airport, which is another common sight. I even saw someone who just wore their
slippers as shoes.
The waiting areas at the airport are proof humans are
animals. We all guard our suitcases like a lion guards its meal, and we
encircle and defend our territories. We’re crammed in the waiting areas, too,
and everyone is irritable. I spent my entire time waiting for a flight from
Chicago to Sioux Falls just glaring at some guy wearing a Trump hat. (He
obviously deserved it.) And have you noticed that NO ONE is nice to you in an
airport? If you’re on vacation anywhere else, someone is bound to be nice to
you – something simple like holding a door or asking where you’re going. I have
never experienced this in an airport since we’re all existing in this state of
suspended misery and have to conserve every ounce our ourselves in order to get
through without freaking out.
Let’s talk about the actual planes. Ask every person you
know who actually enjoys flying. I enjoy that flying is an option to get me
places quickly, but the experience of flying is miserable. No one enjoys it.
First of all, if you’re an economy flyer like me, you have to herd through
first class while those high-faluters stare at you from their huge seats like
you are total scum. They ALWAYS stare at you.
My absolute least favourite part is trying to find a place
for your luggage. Once upon a time, you could check a bag for free. Do you
remember those days? I barely do; it was so long ago. Back then, you could
check your bag for free and still have a carry-on item. Now, of course, you can
have your carry-on item and your “personal item” for free, sometimes not even
that. But then all our carry-ons are stuffed to the gills and barely small
enough to be considered carry-ons, but we’ll all be damned if we’re going to
pay to check our bags. I inevitably end up being one of the last to board (I’m
also not paying extra to board early), and I’m always stuck looking for
someplace for my bag that ends up being nowhere near my seat. Then, I have to
hold up the line of other impatient boarders as I try to awkwardly hoist my super-heavy
suitcase with my weak noodle arms into a spot above my head that may or may not
fit. I hate that so much.
When you finally find your seat, you’re smushed into the
person next to you, so hopefully you know them. If you don’t, good luck. I
typically end up with someone who puts their feet into my own negligible foot
space and sticks their elbows out over the armrest. And the person behind me
always kicks my seat. And there’s always a screaming baby nearby.
Deplaning can be just as harrowing, especially if you have
to go against the flow of plane traffic to locate your bag. And God help you if
you’re on a flight to Arizona, because those snowbirds will TRAMPLE you. No
remorse.
Don’t get me wrong: I am grateful for the opportunity to be
able to fly. Not everyone has this luxury. I just wish it could be a little
more civilized for everyone involved.
At least we still get free pretzels.
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