I now understand why seemingly normal people go balls out ballistic while on board aircraft's, and end up forcing emergency landings and end up detained for days on end by the government, all because they got feisty on board. It's not that hard to do anymore.
H-ette and I were in Montreal for the weekend. Some quality family time was in order and we really needed to get away to boot, so off we went. However, whilst this seems like it should be an easy fete, it proved to be a nightmare.
Staycations?? I don't see no stinkin' Americans taking staycations this year. No, no no. The airports were slammed, the lines were hellicious, the patience thinly veiled as an evil calm. Flying there was maybe a 4 on a scale of 1 to 10. Nothing to write home about but we made it, we were fine.
Coming home, different story. Our flight, in August, in reasonably normal weather, was delayed. SIX HOURS. Six hours I was stuck in Trudeau airport in Montreal, listening to every goddamn announcement being made in both English AND French. I wanted to claw my eyeballs out. It gets to a point in airports when things start to close. That time, I might add, is way too early in my book. The bars, magazine shops and coffee shops are pulling down their gates at 8pm. WTF? The entire airport is full, delays are rampant, nobody's going anywhere anytime soon, and my only source of entertainment...sipping a latte while I sit in the magazine shop and read through every trashy magazine cover to cover without purchasing a single one...that plan is shot to shit now. I must resort to keeping myself entertained, or worse, allowing H-ette to entertain me. Which he doesn't do well because he was smart enough to get a smartcard for his Blackberry so he's listening to tunes and jammin out and I want to kill someone.
So fast forward four hours and we are finally on the stupid Buddy Holly plane. Sister's patience is wearing thin. Plane takes off. Plane is in the air. Air Hostess and her gay host friend come through the insanely small cabin with their drinks cart. Ette2 has to pee. She's been holding it since takeoff. In her defense, she nursed a large coffee (which she got the bartender in the bar next door to spike to at least make it interesting) for 3 hours, and now she has to go like a racehorse. Annoying Air Hostess is coming through the cabin at an unbelievably slow pace. She's pouring hot coffees, hot teas....margaritas. 2 can't go to the loo until Air Hostess passes her row. As Air Hostess passes her row, 2 makes her move. Air Hostess sternly tells 2 that she must remain in her seat as the Fasten Seat belt sign is on. 2 smiles and politely tells Air Hostess that she has to go to the loo and she will be quick. Air Hostess gives her the evil eye, says "No means no." And blocks the aisle with her cart until 2 sits back down. 2 is not happy.
2 waits patiently. 10 minutes pass by. No turbulence. No turned off seat belt sign. 2 is now holding her vag like a 2 year old. She makes eye contact with Air Hostess, waves her down. Air Hostess remains vigilant. "Federal Regulation requires that you stay in your seat when the seat belt light is on." I remind her that there is no turbulence, and that she just served piping hot coffee to 32 travelers, so I am a little unclear why I can't be trusted to pee in a bowl. If the plane starts shaking so erratically, they will have more to worry about than little old me in the loo, as the entire plane will be suffering from 3rd degree coffee burns.
Air Hostess crosses her arms, shakes her snooty head. 2 is now not just desperate, she is PISSED (no relationship between being pissed and pissing, btw). She remains in her seat with a scowl for another 15 minutes. At which point, the captain comes on the intercom to tell us that he is beginning our descent and we should be in Newark in 20 minutes. 2 has had enough. She stands up, and marches to the front of the plane. Air Hostess moves directly in front of the bathroom, crosses her arms. 2 tells her that if she doesn't move the F out of her way, there is going to be hell to pay. She pushes past Air Hostess as Air Hostess tells 2 that 2 will be solely responsible now for the pilot postponing descent, bc she is in the loo. 2 tells her to F off. 2 does her business, feels like a woman again, exits the bathroom and heads back to her seat, after laser beam eyes are exchanged between Air Hostess and 2.
Fast forward five minutes. Air Hostess' little Air Host friend sashays up to 2 and H-ette. He leans in and quite loudly for all in the vicinity to hear says "For future reference, what you just did is against federal regulation and you can be detained for disobeying your Air Hostess."
I will leave you with that, readerettes. What I said to Air Host is unprintable. However this long and drawn out explanation leads me to my original point, which is that flying BLOWs. Drive if you can. Or take the train, at least that shit is semi-romantic and the seats are bigger. Because flying will eventually cause you to lose your cool in the air, and you may or may not be detained for breaking Federal Regulation. Whatever that is.
H-ette and I were in Montreal for the weekend. Some quality family time was in order and we really needed to get away to boot, so off we went. However, whilst this seems like it should be an easy fete, it proved to be a nightmare.
Staycations?? I don't see no stinkin' Americans taking staycations this year. No, no no. The airports were slammed, the lines were hellicious, the patience thinly veiled as an evil calm. Flying there was maybe a 4 on a scale of 1 to 10. Nothing to write home about but we made it, we were fine.
Coming home, different story. Our flight, in August, in reasonably normal weather, was delayed. SIX HOURS. Six hours I was stuck in Trudeau airport in Montreal, listening to every goddamn announcement being made in both English AND French. I wanted to claw my eyeballs out. It gets to a point in airports when things start to close. That time, I might add, is way too early in my book. The bars, magazine shops and coffee shops are pulling down their gates at 8pm. WTF? The entire airport is full, delays are rampant, nobody's going anywhere anytime soon, and my only source of entertainment...sipping a latte while I sit in the magazine shop and read through every trashy magazine cover to cover without purchasing a single one...that plan is shot to shit now. I must resort to keeping myself entertained, or worse, allowing H-ette to entertain me. Which he doesn't do well because he was smart enough to get a smartcard for his Blackberry so he's listening to tunes and jammin out and I want to kill someone.
So fast forward four hours and we are finally on the stupid Buddy Holly plane. Sister's patience is wearing thin. Plane takes off. Plane is in the air. Air Hostess and her gay host friend come through the insanely small cabin with their drinks cart. Ette2 has to pee. She's been holding it since takeoff. In her defense, she nursed a large coffee (which she got the bartender in the bar next door to spike to at least make it interesting) for 3 hours, and now she has to go like a racehorse. Annoying Air Hostess is coming through the cabin at an unbelievably slow pace. She's pouring hot coffees, hot teas....margaritas. 2 can't go to the loo until Air Hostess passes her row. As Air Hostess passes her row, 2 makes her move. Air Hostess sternly tells 2 that she must remain in her seat as the Fasten Seat belt sign is on. 2 smiles and politely tells Air Hostess that she has to go to the loo and she will be quick. Air Hostess gives her the evil eye, says "No means no." And blocks the aisle with her cart until 2 sits back down. 2 is not happy.
2 waits patiently. 10 minutes pass by. No turbulence. No turned off seat belt sign. 2 is now holding her vag like a 2 year old. She makes eye contact with Air Hostess, waves her down. Air Hostess remains vigilant. "Federal Regulation requires that you stay in your seat when the seat belt light is on." I remind her that there is no turbulence, and that she just served piping hot coffee to 32 travelers, so I am a little unclear why I can't be trusted to pee in a bowl. If the plane starts shaking so erratically, they will have more to worry about than little old me in the loo, as the entire plane will be suffering from 3rd degree coffee burns.
Air Hostess crosses her arms, shakes her snooty head. 2 is now not just desperate, she is PISSED (no relationship between being pissed and pissing, btw). She remains in her seat with a scowl for another 15 minutes. At which point, the captain comes on the intercom to tell us that he is beginning our descent and we should be in Newark in 20 minutes. 2 has had enough. She stands up, and marches to the front of the plane. Air Hostess moves directly in front of the bathroom, crosses her arms. 2 tells her that if she doesn't move the F out of her way, there is going to be hell to pay. She pushes past Air Hostess as Air Hostess tells 2 that 2 will be solely responsible now for the pilot postponing descent, bc she is in the loo. 2 tells her to F off. 2 does her business, feels like a woman again, exits the bathroom and heads back to her seat, after laser beam eyes are exchanged between Air Hostess and 2.
Fast forward five minutes. Air Hostess' little Air Host friend sashays up to 2 and H-ette. He leans in and quite loudly for all in the vicinity to hear says "For future reference, what you just did is against federal regulation and you can be detained for disobeying your Air Hostess."
I will leave you with that, readerettes. What I said to Air Host is unprintable. However this long and drawn out explanation leads me to my original point, which is that flying BLOWs. Drive if you can. Or take the train, at least that shit is semi-romantic and the seats are bigger. Because flying will eventually cause you to lose your cool in the air, and you may or may not be detained for breaking Federal Regulation. Whatever that is.
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