The Cursed Flight

So the reason I haven’t posted in a week is that I’ve been in New York singing with my high school choir. Actually, I’ve been back since Sunday, but was having a hard time writing a post about the trip because it needed to be fantastic. And how could I possibly write a post that would live up to the wild times and sheer amazingness that is New York?

I can’t. So I apologize if the next few posts on this blog consist of me vamping on various aspects of the trip. Let’s begin, shall we?

First of all, I’m going to tell you about the cursed flight. It was my first one. I had never been on a plane before. Nor had I been in an airport. My friends expected to find an embarrassing video of my panic attack during takeoff on Facebook, but we’re not quite there yet (don’t worry, I didn’t panic).

Never have I seen food that shitty and expensive, and mind you I’m a teenager, we would eat fried chicken off the ground. The Starbucks at SFO had particularly bad coffee, and the cream cheese on the bagel I got tasted old. I also developed a very itchy rash approximately ten minutes after sitting in the cesspools of bacteria that they call chairs. After two hours of wandering around the airport shops with the other malnourished teenagers, we boarded our flight.

I had bought a brand new carry-on the week before specifically so I wouldn’t have to check my baggage and specifically for this flight. After standing in the molasses-like line for ten minutes, I got to my seat, only to find that there was no space in the overhead luggage compartments. The stewards announced that they no longer had space for carry-ons, and would check our bags for free. Because large groups of people are incapable of all going one direction. I and the other passengers stuck halfway down the aisle had to claw our way back to the front against a sea of idiots expecting that somehow their bag was an exception.

By the time I entered the plane a second time, I expected the line of people stuck in the aisle to have disappeared. I was wrong. Why were we standing in the aisle way thirty minutes after the flight should have taken off? Because a family of five absolutely refused to sit in the five separate seats that they had bought themselves. First a polite stewardess kindly asked them to take their seats. They declined. Then a second came in and they teamed up to force them to sit or leave. However, the family would not move. A gentleman offered to switch seats with them so that three could sit together. They argued with him. Eventually, a very persuasive (by persuasive I mean angry and threatening) stewardess appeared. The family sat down resentfully. We were able to take our seats.

I had always known that with the immense amounts of gasoline planes use, they effectively rape the earth, but I had never expected them to rape the earth that loudly. I did not have a panic attack, but I did have to use my noise-canceling headphones in all their glory. The seats were uncomfortable, and the flight was a redeye, so my friend and I had to use each other as pillows. We slept unsoundly.

We landed in Newark. I haven’t thought of a clever or substantial ending to this post, so I will end it as abruptly as the flight.

Advertisements

5 thoughts on “The Cursed Flight

  1. caroljforrester

    Yet one more reason to avoid flying. I’m quite keen to travel around Europe in a couple of years but I’m hoping to either go by car or train since I can the turn to travel into part of the trip and see the scenery. Perhaps even take random detour and end up getting stuck in random, little villages.

    Reply
    1. thinkingdiagonally Post author

      Roadtrip style travel sounds so romantic to me! Especially here in America, since it’s such a big country with so many different types of country and people I’m looking forward to do something like that too.

      Reply

Got thoughts?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s