On the first flight today there was a pretty heavy scare. Once seated I was shortly joined by someone that probably checked in at around 300 pounds, typically this wouldn’t be so bad but this was a CRJ200 which is known as one of the “little planes” to the layperson. It’s the sort of plane where you have to board from the asphalt of the runway and not from the friendly confines of the jet way. It’s only at that moment you truly realize how large some of the other planes are while having that same realization about your new seat mate. A waiting 747 appears to be a goliath and it leaves you wondering why you got stuck with the CRJ200. Really, you know why, no one flies to Memphis from Jacksonville and if I could have had the CRJ200 as a seat mate I’d have been thrilled.
But I said this was a scare and not a real problem. It was only a scare because after about 10 minutes of having a roll creeping over the arm rest and touching my arm, all the while with anger building inside me, another waiting passenger took the seat from my 300 pound seat mate. So not only was this lady unable to resist the temptation of sprinkle donuts and eating whole pizzas with a 2 liter of diet soda, she was also unable to understand that 2A wasn’t actually an aisle seat. Certain size people shouldn’t be allowed on such small aircraft. I know that sounds weight-est but you try riding in a CRJ200 for 2 hours all the while being crammed into a smaller pocket of the already small space you were supposed to be allocated for $500. Whatever intellectual thought process and compassion you might normally have is over ridden with “GOD DAMN IT, STOP TOUCHING ME!”
Travelling for work is awful outside of the occasional upgrade to first class. Since the wheat is separated from the chaff you are allowed to drink from real glass cups and not be harassed to move your seat back up and turn off your ipod once the boarding door is closed (I heard a flight attendant once announce “our monitors are showing 3 electronic devices still on”- Total bullshit, total Easter Bunny, Santa Claus, Jesus Christ bullshit (are you reading this? I saw you had John something or other on your Kindle, mind your own shit fucker. Shit, pot – meet kettle)). The worst part about all of it is not being there to give my sons a bath, have dinner with my family, comfort of sleeping in your own bed, no possibility of a lunch time or after work surf or guitar playing, makes it damn near unbearable.
Having to leave your family for such bullshit as trivial as printers and their operation is awful falafel.
On the first flight today there was a pretty heavy scare. Once seated I was shortly joined by someone that probably checked in at around 300 pounds, typically this wouldn’t be so bad but this was a CRJ200 which is known as one of the “little planes” to the layperson. It’s the sort of plane where you have to board from the asphalt of the runway and not from the friendly confines of the jet way. It’s only at that moment you truly realize how large some of the other planes are while having that same realization about your new seat mate. A waiting 747 appears to be a goliath and it leaves you wondering why you got stuck with the CRJ200. Really, you know why, no one flies to Memphis from Jacksonville and if I could have had the CRJ200 as a seat mate I’d have been thrilled.
But I said this was a scare and not a real problem. It was only a scare because after about 10 minutes of having a roll creeping over the arm rest and touching my arm, all the while with anger building inside me, another waiting passenger took the seat from my 300 pound seat mate. So not only was this lady unable to resist the temptation of sprinkle donuts and eating whole pizzas with a 2 liter of diet soda, she was also unable to understand that 2A wasn’t actually an aisle seat. Certain size people shouldn’t be allowed on such small aircraft. I know that sounds weight-est but you try riding in a CRJ200 for 2 hours all the while being crammed into a smaller pocket of the already small space you were supposed to be allocated for $500. Whatever intellectual thought process and compassion you might normally have is over ridden with “GOD DAMN IT, STOP TOUCHING ME!”
Travelling for work is awful outside of the occasional upgrade to first class. Since the wheat is separated from the chaff you are allowed to drink from real glass cups and not be harassed to move your seat back up and turn off your ipod once the boarding door is closed (I heard a flight attendant once announce “our monitors are showing 3 electronic devices still on”- Total bullshit, total Easter Bunny, Santa Claus, Jesus Christ bullshit (are you reading this? I saw you had John something or other on your Kindle, mind your own shit fucker. Shit, pot – meet kettle)). The worst part about all of it is not being there to give my sons a bath, have dinner with my family, comfort of sleeping in your own bed, no possibility of a lunch time or after work surf or guitar playing, makes it damn near unbearable.
Having to leave your family for such bullshit as trivial as printers and their operation is awful falafel.
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