Asterisk's Worst Flight Ever

My flight home was somehow even more stressful than the trip to Virginia. The first flight, to Chicago O’Hare and my connection, was just fine. I flew on one of those fun little express planes. The second…

…Let’s put it this way. I have been on three truly terrible flights in my life. The worst one was flying back from Puerto Rico, when my Dramamine wore off and I got vertigo, which is something I’d never experienced before, and would like to avoid in the future. I almost threw up on the guy sitting next to me (although his paltry attempts to flirt with me weren’t helping the situation). The second worst flight was when I was about eight, and flying to Arizona. My ears plugged up so bad I thought I was dying—or at least going deaf.

This last flight didn’t result in anything physically painful, but it still might top the other two.

[1:30, Sitting in Airport]
Let’s get one thing down, first. I hate Chicago O’Hare Airport. Judging by other posts I’ve made in the past, it’s going to sound like I hate a lot of airports, but I don’t. Just Atlanta, and Chicago O’Hare. The two dreadful places I continue to end up, usually for hours on end.

The latter is a pain for the same reason as the former—it’s loud, overly crowded, and there’s no free wifi. I had a book at least, but I still found myself sitting on the floor due to a lack of seats—a harbinger of a jam-packed flight to Seattle. Oh joy.

[2:10 Boarding/Pre Take-Off]
Now that we've finally boarded, I have to take in my surroundings. 
The guy sitting next to me on this airplane could be anywhere between 24 and 30 years of age, but I have no idea how to tell. Some men seem to blend into some sort of agelessness that would probably be sexy if it wasn’t so disconcerting. When I get on the plane, he smiles at me in a way I’m sure he thought was suave, and says that this is his first time sitting next to a girl on a plane. A pretty girl, that is.

Oh sure, like that’s the first time you used that line. You think I’m stupid, don’t you...

I laugh and mumble something like, “oh, okay,” and then hope with every fiber in my being he won’t try to flirt with me all the way back to Seattle. I’ve been traveling for a good five hours already, and spent two of them sitting on a floor attempting to eat a pizza that cost too much money. I hate meeting people when I’m tired and stressed. But more than that, I hate flirting.

Fortunately another woman sits on the other side of him. She’s closer to his age, like probably late 20’s. She’s pretty too, and seems to be a lot more responsive to conversation.

Good. You two flirt with each other.

No hard feelings buddy, it’s just, really, if you’re going to go home with somebody’s phone number, it’s hers, guaranteed.

I was going to tell you I was 17, if you asked my age, which you probably wouldn’t.

[2:50, Post Take-Off]
 I think it's over, and I am free to return to my book. Next to me, the two really hit off. Like too much...

[3:15, Mid flight]
Now they’re holding hands, and, oh god, nuzzling. Yeah. Nuzzling.

Dear Lord.

 This is probably the most uncomfortable I’ve ever been on a plane. And I’ve had vertigo. Yeah. vertigo.

[3:35]

I pull out my headphones, but can’t reach my ipod, so I just put them in my pocket and pretend to listen to music.

 And try not to hurl.

[4:00}

 I think they’re making out. Holy god, they are.

Get me off this plane!

[4:04]
The movie on the plane TV is something with Hugh Jackman and robots. There’s also this little kid, or something, but I can’t pay attention because I don’t want to look up, over, or anywhere really, in order to avoid making any sort of eye contact with this couple sitting next to me.

Not that they have their eyes open or anything.

[4:05-5:10]
They proceed to continue making out for the entire duration of the flight, only stopping to pet one another. Meanwhile I’m going up in flames, absolutely mortified.

For one, I’m not a big fan of PDA. I mean, affection is kind of private—by expressing it in public, you’re involving other people without really involving them, and that’s just plain awkward for everyone around you.

Making out on an airplane next to a third person is definitely crossing a line!

I’m in the window seat! I have no escape!

Here’s the thing, I’m supportive of people getting together and being happy. I’m supportive of the freedom to random hookups, if both parties are consenting adults…

…but for the love of God, this is a transcontinental flight, NOT a nightclub. 

Worst.

Plane.

Ride.

Ever.

…For me anyway.

And hey, at least they didn’t ask me to join.

Until tomorrow,

~Asterisk