On airplane travel…

Posted: 9 April, 2009 in Blogging by GWT

I love to travel.

Well, no. I don’t love to travel, really. It cost money. I don’t like spending money, and yet I have to if I want to travel. So I have a love hate relationship with it. I like to travel, but I don’t like to pay for travel. But I sure love me some airplanes.

Maybe its the fact an 18 hour trip becomes two hours. Maybe its the whole looking out the window and watching the clouds. Or in flight snacks. I love in flight snacks. In flight meals are also awesome, but those only show up when traveling internationally for me, because I’m a cheap ass and if I have to pay for an in flight meal, I’ll just bring some gummi bears along instead.

MmmMmm. Gummi Bears.

Anyway, a plane is fast. And you get to see clouds. But there’s also an issue or two.

See: When your butt falls asleep.
Oho boy, is that a feeling. There’s nothing worse than having your ass go so numb that its unconscious. More specifically, one cheek. One cheek and maybe half of your thigh. And its that kind of sleep that its not numb or tingly, but hurts. Oh god, does it hurt.
So you squirm in your seat. Sure, taking a walk would work that right out, but you get up and walk around a plane and people start thinking you’re a terrorist and then the stewardess you thought was cute is pepper spraying you in the eyes and some guy stabs you with a pen and before you know it, the CIA is asking you where Osama Bin Laden in.

So you sit there and squirm, trying to get comfortable without accidentally elbowing the old woman next to you in the face. It doesn’t work. So your ass is trying to escape your body for the remainder of the flight. Oh, and now you have to pee.

Needless to say, its unpleasant.

There’s also what I like to call cycling. The constant on-off of sleep. You sleep, but its impossible to get comfortable. So you crane your neck and when you finally get to sleep, you wake right back up and you’re back where you started. Only now, there’s a crick in your neck. And a hand print on your face, assuming you used that to prop your chin up.

Though, I suppose you wouldn’t have this problem if you’re one of those weirdos that sit at the window the entire flight and point at how pretty all the lights are to everyone on the plane. Don’t get me wrong, it is pretty, but I and most of the other normal people in the world don’t care.

Like I said, though. I love airplanes. I sure as hell don’t intend to drive myself home every time I get the chance to visit. That’s a long drive, man. And my sense of direction is bad. So, air travel it is.

And maybe, just maybe, someday I’ll get a cute stewardess who isn’t too shy about the Mile High Club. Maybe. Doubtful. But it’s worth a shot.

Still really expensive, though.


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