Floating on Cloud 9
Ah, the sweet sound of the roaring engine at the moment of takeoff. The possibility of meeting someone new and interesting. The excitement of going on that much-anticipated vacation. Who doesn’t love flying?
Oh wait… did I forget about the annoying passengers who can’t seem to stop talking? The over-packers who think they’re the only ones who need space for their bags in the overhead compartments? The flight attendants who aren’t nearly as friendly as they’re made out to be in the movies? Not to mention the long security lines filled with middle-aged tourists who just don’t understand the concept of a metal detector.
On my recent trip to hot and sunny Las Vegas, I encountered both the non-stop talker and the lone line-cutter.
Travelling to my destination, a plump redheaded woman with a face full of freckles and too much makeup settled down in a seat behind me and proceeded to talk non-stop to the man next to her for the full three-hour ride. The man, who had boarded the flight bragging about how wasted he was the night before, spent the trip arguing with the woman about everything from politics to raising children.
First of all, as a divorced father of teenagers, aren’t you a little too old to be bragging about getting hammered? (I guess now would be a good time to mention that showing off about drinking is one of my biggest pet peeves.) Sorry to break it to you, buddy, but drinking is really not that great of an accomplishment. And you, Miss I-Don’t-Know-How-to-Shut-Up, did they not teach you in first grade that when you’re not on the playground, you need to use your indoor voice?
I could only give a knowing look to the handsome man sitting next to me who rolled his eyes and shook his head in disbelief as the two behind us continued their unending banter.
Luckily, the flight back was not as annoying. The line, on the other hand, was much less pleasant. I was already upset at the thought of leaving the beautiful vivid city of Las Vegas for my mundane life back in Chicago. My mood was far from joyous, and the long security line did not help much either.
To add to my misery, an older woman traveling by herself slowly rolled her luggage past me and subsequently dropped her velour jacket, boarding pass, and ID on the ground. Now I don’t mind helping a person out, but this lady didn’t even pretend to make any sort of effort to pick her belongings up herself. She just looked at me expectantly, and as I handed her her things and smiled, she slowly mouthed the words “thank you” and proceeded to cut in front of a young couple in the next line. She then tried to leave her garbage near the conveyor belt by telling the security officer she hadn’t seen the trash can on her way into line. It made me strangely happy when the security officer made her throw out her trash anyway.
So was there anything positive about my flight? Well, I guess I did get a pretty picture of some clouds…
And I must say the six plus hours I spent on the plane were indeed worth the trip. I got to relax in an amazing pool, get a tan, see an interesting show, fill my stomach with delicious eats, and experience the city of Las Vegas with someone who was somewhat tolerable ;- )
Viva Las Vegas? I wish. I would never lose my tan and never have to fly again.
