So I was standing at my gate in the airport, being held against my will by the ticket-scanner lady because every time she scanned my boarding pass, her little screen lit up saying "Already on board". And no matter how many times I reasoned with her that the very conversation we were having negated her argument, she disagreed.
"See, right here - it says you're already on the plane, ma'am."
"Huh. That is so weird, because to me, it seems like I'M STANDING HERE, TALKING TO YOU."
"Well, I can't let you get on the plane. You've already boarded."
After about five minutes of this type of thing, the harried flight-attendant-ticket-scanner lady took off down the jetway to try and find Real Me on the plane, leaving Pseudo Me to wait alone at the ticket counter. Just as I started scanning my gate for hidden cameras, thinking that perhaps I had been picked as that week's victim on Existential Hijinks! I observed a lady walk up to the unmanned ticket booth, look around a bit, consider her options, and PROCEED DOWN THE JETWAY. Sans ticket-scanning. What? How is that in keeping with homeland security? I mean, there I was (disputably) waiting to board my plane because of a possible security breach, and this chick comes strolling over and just decides, "ehh, no one's here, and I think I'll just go ahead and get on board". Wow.
Finally, the highly annoyed flight attendant lady came marching back up the jetway. "I checked everyone's ticket against their ID, and didn't find anything. So I guess you can go ahead and board. But you'd better hurry, because the plane is about to leave," she said, very huffily and with much sighing and eye-rolling. Yes, Ms. Flight Attendant. This was all my fault. I am sorry to have inconvenienced you this afternoon with a debate on metaphysical principles. Thank you for allowing me to board my plane.
I got on, sat down in my assigned seat (which, magically, didn't already contain me! how about that!) and prepared to fight the good fight: The Fight Against Puking. I normally don't get severe motion sickness, and when I was a kid, I don't remember getting it at all. But lately I have been experiencing this horrible phenomenon more and more, starting with a cruise I took with my family a couple of years ago, and increasing in strength and frequency ever since. Airplanes don't bother me a bit, unless they are little, bumpy, and hot, and the puddle-jumpers that fly into my hometown are all of the above. I really have to focus on breathing evenly and keeping the air on my face and thinking happy thoughts or else I will find myself scrambling for the nearest air-sickness bag. Which is SO ewww. Thankfully (knock on wood) I have not yet had to use The Bag. All my fingers and toes are crossed that I NEVER have to use The Bag. Ugh. I actually think having to use The Bag might be the most demoralizing thing possible. It's as if all the airline committee members were sitting around a big table one day, eating nachos, making up policies, feeling decidedly UN-nauseated, and thought you know, if these passengers are so feeble-minded as to get sick on a plane (ha!) then they should HAVE to use a tiny, white paper bag to puke in. I mean, COWBOY UP, right? We will not pander to their weaknesses!
Well, it works. Because I can't think of anything worse than feeling horribly nauseated, fighting against the puke valiantly, and then, due to forces out of my control (see: suffocating, hot, bumpy) succumb to the TINY WHITE AIRSICK BAG. I'd rather jump out of the emergency exit.
Anyway.
I was seated in the second-to-last row of the plane. The very last row, I found out, is a long bench seat, designed to hold four people all side to side. That is how little these planes are. On my flight, the bench was holding three people, one of whom was directly behind me, and two of whom were seated behind and to the left of me. The man behind me was your prototypical airplane passenger, carrying a briefcase, a laptop, and a smart phone, all of which he had out and ready to go as soon as the captain made his little "you can now use electronic devices" announcement. His fellow bench-mates, however, were about as far from prototypical as you could possibly imagine. Unless your version of prototypical includes most of the guests on Jerry Springer.
They were a couple, as we (and by we, I mean the ENTIRE PLANE) soon found out when the female-half of the couple started SCREAMING at the male-half of the couple for touching her leg. We were subsequently treated to more SCREAMING about how she was not about to let her son and his girlfriend move out, because if they did, then who would pay the (expletive) rent, and then they'd be (expletive) out of luck. She also wanted to know how her companion (boyfriend? husband?) could possibly blame her son for drinking all the Jack, because didn't he know how obvious it was that his (promiscuous) daughter was the one drinking all the Jack? Also, she wanted a cigarette. RIGHT NOW. And she would really appreciate if he would STOP TOUCHING HER RIGHT NOW, because if he didn't, she would stand up and scream for everyone to hear (at this point I had to assume that she somehow had even higher decibels in her repertoire, which was impressive) AND IF HE DIDN'T BELIEVE HER? Well, she'd do it. She (expletive) promised him she'd do it. All of this pleasantry was interspersed with heavy petting and promises to "make it all better, baby" and "see, isn't that better now" until, presumably, the petting got too heavy and we'd all be treated to another round of DON'T YOU TOUCH ME, I'LL SCREAM.
There was an elderly lady in the seat in front of me who kept turning around during these tirades and giving Old Woman Disapproving Looks. Finally, after about three prolonged OWDLs, the Jerry Springer protégé locked eyes with the elderly lady and said "Whut? Whutta you lookin' at?" I felt sorry for the old lady, but only kind of. I mean, those OWDLs are really overrated, if you ask me. They rarely work on anyone, but grandma should have known they never work on people like that.
Finally and blessedly, the plane landed, and we prepared to deplane. For those of you who are frequenters of the air-travel industry, you probably have noticed that there is a little unspoken rule of etiquette when leaving the plane. You generally wait for the people in the seats directly in front of you to gather their stuff, retrieve items from the overhead bins, and start down the aisle before you do the same. Now this isn't a hard and fast rule, as many times the people in front of you will motion you past if you look like you're in a hurry, or maybe you know that you have tons of stuff in the overhead bin and would rather just wait for the plane to mostly empty before you start your haul. However, for the most part, you POLITELY WAIT on the people in front of you. Not so with the Jerry Springerites. The VERY SECOND the captain turned off the fasten-seatbelt sign, the woman from the back row was up, clutching two cigarettes and a lighter in her little fist, and pushing ahead of everyone else on the plane. She was the first one off, and although her departure from any sort of manners whatsoever came as enough of a surprise to everyone that they kind of just let her through, we had all recovered enough to stand up and block her partner-in-crime when he tried the same thing. So he got stuck waiting right in front of me, and as he waited he draped his hand over the back of the seat in front of mine. I wanted to check for a wedding ring, but he was missing all but two of his fingers. So I guess that will have to remain a mystery.
As I waited for my baggage, I looked around for the couple. I didn't hear any yelling, so I got curious. Were they actually engaging in a knock-down, drag-out fight? Were they making out while simultaneously taking long drags of their cigarettes for their nicotine-starved lungs? I thought I might never see them again, but as I loaded my bags into the trunk of Cody's car, I caught a glimpse of the lady. Alas, she wasn't doing anything more interesting than standing against the side of the building, smoking and talking on her cell phone. As we drove away, though, I could have sworn I heard her yell something about her brother, and whether or not he knew who stoled her Crocs.
Sheesh. Makes me glad I don't travel by plane very often. Also, a movie quote comes to mind: Austin Powers as he comes out of deep freeze when he yells "WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE!?!" That's the sort of thing that would be going through my mind in that situation. Then my husband would do more than the OWDL. He'd most likely turn around, stare hardly at them, point his finger, and say something in a very stern voice like "HEY. You need to keep it down. This is a public plane and nobody wants to hear your screaming. Now. Can you behave like adults? Or do I need to call the flight attendent?" Oh yes, he's quite the guard dog. Not afraid to speak up to idiots. This used to embarras me when he'd actually get out of his car and pick up a cigarette from the road that somebody in front of him had just tossed out the window. He'd hand it back to them and tell them off for it. I've pretty much gotten over my embarrassment and learned to just accept it. Oi.
Posted by: Chiada | October 17, 2007 at 02:27 PM
I am laughing like crazy at this story... while you had special misery with your travel companions and the airline staff, the misery of air travel is universal to us all.
Although, I will say that two weekends ago, I had a lovely plane ride (with cookies) home to Minnesota. So I guess that I got all the "good flight" vibes and you got all the bad. Sorry 'bout that!
Posted by: Laurel | October 17, 2007 at 03:08 PM
Ah... planes. Gotta love 'em. I'm not looking forward to 24 hours on one between Sydney and London. Hope there are no Jerry Springer crazies behind me.
In littler numbers, I'm going from Sydney to the Gold Coast next week via domestic planes, which are smaller and generally carry more wacky travellers. I shall keep any good stories saved up to relay back!
Posted by: alyndabear | October 17, 2007 at 04:34 PM
Chiada - whoa, your husband is a badass! I am totally impressed.
Laurel - sure, you got cookies, but I got to smell the sweet aroma of cigarette smoke-doused clothing and hair for a good hour. And that, m'dear, is hard to beat.
Alynda - yes, yes! Please give me an Aussie version of this story! What do you call these types over there? :)
Posted by: elise | October 17, 2007 at 04:55 PM
Fighting the Puking. I FEEL YOU.
Posted by: Dory | October 17, 2007 at 05:00 PM
At least they provided free entertainment, no?
Posted by: Chaos Control | October 17, 2007 at 05:29 PM
Yep, I'm a plane puker, too.
Posted by: Jenn | October 17, 2007 at 05:49 PM
Glad you did'nt have to use the bag! I sent a sick girl to the nurse with a trash can in hand last week..haha..I wasn't getting near it! Aren't I sensitive?
Speaking of..I really can't stand rude people in close spaces like that! I feel sorry for the old lady :( Glad it's all over!
Posted by: Lena | October 17, 2007 at 11:14 PM
so many funny parts to this post. i especially like the OWDLs because i SO know what those look like. haha.
and i can't believe they made all that fuss about you being "already boarded" but someone just waltzed onto the plane without even being "scanned in". ridiculous.
Posted by: Michelle | October 18, 2007 at 10:43 AM
Holy shite.
You cannot make this stuff up.
And what happened to the lady that just got on the plane without the attendant scanning her ticket??
Did she exist? lol
Oh man.
Posted by: Julie | October 18, 2007 at 02:34 PM
it sounds like they were using bus etiquette on a plane. (of course this means not using etiquette at all, but basically this is what it's like to ride the bus!)
Posted by: janet | October 18, 2007 at 07:05 PM
oh my dear lord. as a frequent flyer, this story made me laugh. which i def needed today. hopefully you'll have better luck in the future with flights.
and for the record. i probably would have lost my shit to the bitchy flight woman scanner. a big "bahhh" to her!
Posted by: blogging barbie | October 19, 2007 at 11:25 AM
on my flight from orlando a few days ago, there was a semi-elderly woman behind me who pulled the same trick when the plane stopped: she began trying to fight her way out quicker than everyone else. she literally pushed past me in an effort to get out. however, as we were at least 10 rows back, the thick crowd blocked her way, and as she nudged people - "excuse me, excuse me" - someone finally said, "look, we're all getting out here. you're just going to have to wait." her pouting told us she obviously did not like that idea. some people.
Posted by: kyle | October 19, 2007 at 12:13 PM
When will I ever be that person who says "look, you're just going to have to wait?" or, better yet, the person who turns around and asks the fighting bus-etiquette people to please be quiet until they can act like adults?
Is there some kind of training school for this?
Posted by: elise | October 19, 2007 at 12:52 PM
I'm a fan of the less drowsy dramamine.
Posted by: Wide Lawns | October 20, 2007 at 06:47 PM
HAHA, wow. That was an exceptional story. Horrific for you, I'm sure, but hilarious. Maybe you could write a book with all of your travel stories someday. Or...just compile the already written ones into paperback form.
Something like that.
I hate those stupid TINY planes.
Posted by: Claire Patrick | October 20, 2007 at 08:48 PM
You've reminded me why I need xanax when I fly. Glad everyone made it safe and sound (both real you and impersonating you, too).
Posted by: Nola | October 22, 2007 at 10:16 PM