Saturday, June 18, 2011

Flying Solo

So I am on this little vacation, compliments of my stud, to visit one of my besties who moved to AZ. This is not my first time to Tuscon. I was there about 8 years ago for barista training. More on that another day.
I must first let you in on a little secret. My husband does everything for me. "Put your bag here." "Get out your ID." "You'll need to take off your shoes."
Sounding ridiculous enough? Yeah, I am pretty pathetic. I don't know if it's that I subconcienciously (I actually spelled that right the first try!) like him "taking care of me" or that I am too ADHD to know what the heck is going on or about to be going on. Either way, the thought of traveling in an airport, knowing I have to be somewhere by a certain time sends me into a tizzy... It gives me high anxiety. I am constantly repeating in my head my next move... Planning my exit off the plane and trying to remember my terminal number. I am stressing so much, to the point that the man sitting closest to me on the plane made a comment on how quiet and serious I looked. Enough about my idiocy.
I am lucky enough to have no one sitting in front of me... Or beside me... Or behind me... However, I am unlucky enough to have the only seat directly next to the rest room. Yeah, I got the stinky seat. So not cool. When I saw the extremely large Samoan man, with a very nervous look on his face making his way to the back of the plane, I just *knew* this was going to be bad. Very bad. So bad that I had already planned my counter attack: complete humiliation. At first, I would (loudly) knock on the door (because it's all of 16 inches from my face). If this dude does the unthinkable this close to my face, I will ask him (loudly) to do a "courtesy flush". I have no shame.
If that doesn't work... Well, I haven't gotten that far... I was just hoping that would work.
Lucky for me he just needed to do #1.
Which brings me to pet peeve #537: Hearing Other People Pee. Freakin' grosses me out. Especially hearing a man pee. I know they are peeing from a much higher point than women (since we sit). So, I naturally, assume it is splashing everywhere. Thinking about that big Samoan man splashing his urine everywhere made my my skin crawl. Literally, I had goose bumps.
As we are descending, my iPod starts playing a 90s hit by Boyz II Men, "End of the Road". Now this might be a little humorous, and a little scary at the same time... But when you throw in extreme turbulence, this becomes downright frightening. Not funny, at all.
It's about then that I was wishing I had paid the $7, and a thumb, for that glass of wine.
We finally land in ATL and my fears of "being lost" (R.I.P.) deminnish. I actually know my way around this place. I have flown several times and often from ATL. I recognized little stores, and found the signs pointing me in the right direction. Score. I found my terminal. After that, and a brief encounter with a shuffling creepy old man admiring (a little too long) my feet, I stopped, bought a water, some trail mix and a magazine for entirely too much money.
Once I was in my terminal, I found a nice cozy spot away from most of the other people on my flight. Confession: I don't generally like other people I don't know because I am afraid of what they might smell like. I usually hold my breath or breathe out of my mouth (looking like roadkill, or Napoleon Dynamite) when near strangers.
Seated, I decide to read and snack. A few mins later, a group of about 30 teens, all wearing the same polo style shirt, surround me. 30 chatty teens, each constantly "one-upping" the other with lame stories about "Me and Cameron did that..." or "My darling horse..." Someone, save me.
I finally tuned them out enough to read my Glamour magazine, with Blake Lively on the cover. Love her. A family of four decides to take the only empty seats near me... Right beside me. The daughter is eating the nastiest smelling food... I swear it smelled like death. Even breathing through my mouth I could smell the nastiness. I contemplated telling her I was allergic to stink, and asking her to move. As I finish the article on Blake, I turn the pages, skimming for the next big read, when all of a sudden, I hear stinky-food-eater's mom talking about the flight being delayed. Great. I look outside and it is raining so hard, i cannot see the plane parked less than 50 yards from the window. Then about 15 mins later, the airport worker person announces our flight has been delayed... But not because of rain. The plane just landed from Dominican Republic, and the plane must first be cleansed. Do huh?! Is this a joke? Does that mean this plane is that nasty?! I swear, if I get some nasty swine virus or bird flu...

(to be continued)