I hate flying, but I love the takeoff. I love the feel, I love the sound, and I love
watching the ground move away. But then
the fun is over and you're just in small tube 30,000 feet above the
ground surrounded by strangers, some of whom are infants and toddlers and
behave accordingly. Then there is the
classic decision of whether or not to strike up a conversation with your
neighbors. Do they want to be left alone
or if started will they not shut up for the rest of the flight? This admission will not shock those that know
me, but I typically opt not to start the conversation.
I typically resolve my flight issues by sleeping through the
trips. I traveled a lot for work from
2007 to 2009 and I used drugs and revised sleeping schedules to condition
myself to sleep on planes, which may be another reason my mind enjoys the
trigger of the takeoff. Although, the
sleeping strategy works best when you have the window seat and can be
problematic when coupled with other seating assignments.
The worst part of flying though is the experience in the
airport. It's like if the DMV made you
take off your shoes or if your church made you show up at least an hour early
to sit there or wait in line. In an
upcoming trip I have a 4 hour layover.
The city hardly matters, because that's almost the perfect amount of
time to not be able to get out into the city, do something, and get back
through security. It's a 4 hour layover
in an airport which is a problem for me, because in recent years, I have had to
work very hard to not be bored when I’m close to lots of food. Thus, the airport is an impossible scenario
for me, so I will no doubt be found at JFK at a table laden with all manner of
foods while I people watch and watch or read something innocuous.
No comments:
Post a Comment