Am I the only person who hates flying Southwest (or as I like to call them, Southworst)?
I mean, they reel you in with their promises of cheaper airfare and bags flying for free…but does anyone really like flying Southworst? I know I don’t. The best comparison that I can think of is that flying Southworst is like being on a Greyhound bus…with wings…and more expensive tickets. I think; I can’t honestly say that I’ve ever ridden the Greyhound. But I imagine it is very similar.
As much as I hate flying Southworst, I often find myself doing so anyway because of the cheap fares. With the price of gas and airplane tickets rapidly rising, sometimes a girl has got to do what she has got to do; especially when that girl has a tendency towards procrastination. Such is the case for this weekend’s trip.
This morning, I had the privilege of being in boarding group B, so I just patiently waited until it was my group’s turn to join the line. As long as I’m in my section, I’m not going to nickel and dime the other people about what specific boarding position they have. The sections are divided into increments of five. What’s the worst that could happen; you end up behind the other four people in your section, instead of ahead of them? BFD. I always chuckle a little when I see people comparing boarding passes and then one proclaiming victoriously, “Oh, I’m ahead of you.” Congratulations! You get to board the plane one step ahead of me. I bet that makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
After making it through the boarding line, it was on to the long trek through the gate tunnel, whichof course, was not climate controlled. They never are! Why is that? All of those people crowding in those tunnels, breathing their hot breath and coughing and sneezing their germs around, plus a lack of air circulation, like always, added up to a major fit of nausea for me. I might add, the people in those tunnels should adhere to the second commandment of elevator etiquette. If I can feel your aforementioned hot ass breath on any part of my body; you are too close. Back it up and wait your turn. There’s not much more annoying than strangers standing so close that they can step on the back of your shoes.
I made it through all of the typical trials relatively unscathed, but just as I was about to mentally congratulate myself on maintaining my cool and not totally panicking with all of the bs going on around me, I stepped onto the plane and right into a guerilla assault on my olfactory senses. Awesome. Someone was nice enough to wait to take a shit until after they boarded the plane. Apparently the airport bathroom was not good enough; this thoughtful individual held their bowels (in order to claim their rightful place in the boarding line pecking order, no doubt) until they got to the already cramped airplane latrine with the recycled air ventilation system. SO rude.
Trying to escape the noxious fumes (and to choke back the overwhelming urge to vomit), I ran down the frustratingly narrow aisle, bumping countless sets of knees in my mad dash for a breath of fresh air. I looked around frantically, searching for a sign that I was not the only person who smelled death looming. Oddly enough, no one else seemed fazed, with the exception of the woman who was vigorously splashing herself with her purse-sized body splash. I’m pretty sure she was mumbling something to the effect of “Calgon, take me away.”
Needless to say, I plopped myself into the seat next to her and gratefully inhaled the lingering remnants of her delightful apple scent. So, to the woman sitting next to me in 8D on Southworst Flight #1305 to LAS, I thank you.
No comments:
Post a Comment