Thursday, January 23, 2014

I Want To Fly First Class....please

As many of you know, I fly quite a bit. So much in fact, that the last time I did in December, the security guy drew a circle with a slash thru it and told me to make sure the TSA agents saw this. What? What did that mean? I step up to the belt and show the TSA agent. I  start to remove my boots and the TSA agent  told me I don't have to do that. " I don't? Why not?' "Because you have been cleared. You do not have to take out your electronic devices as well.". Okaaaaay....why have I been cleared? This is the conversation I am having with myself as I am breezing thru security, meanwhile looking over at the TSA clearance line thinking those people had to pay for that privilege. The only thing I can think of is that I fly frequently? They must assume I pose no threat? ( What, like a weeble instills security in people?) I finally asked someone as it was driving me nuts and that's exactly what they told me. I fly so frequently , the agent figured I was no threat. So,  rest assured America.
Which leads me to this blog. I hate flying. Wait a minute, let me clarify this. I hate flying alone. Which is what I do. I travel to be with my daughter and I travel alone. Which opens me up to a world of possibilities as to whom will be sitting next to me.
My last flight home could have been the turning point as to whether I had to be committed to an insane asylum. I fly Southwest Air so I can pick my seat. And I pay the extra 20 dollars so I can be one of the first 25 to do so. Money well spent.
I enter the plane and pick my window seat. Lets be real, and think about this now. I am a larger woman with even larger breasts. Realizing this, I pick the window so I can turn/angle my body to the side to give my seat companion their space. The "girls" tend to want a little more space than the airline wants to give them. So I do this. My carry on bag is tucked nicely under my seat, my tablet already put into the back seat pocket for me to use when I want.
I wait.
Who will sit next to me? Will it be a"the sick guy"...the one who wants to share his coughs and sneezes with me? Or will it be the "overly friendly talker", who wants to tell me how great the last episode of "Ugly Betty" was?
Or could it be a first time flyer? You know, the one who will break out in a sweat and hyperventilate while trying to grab my hands?
Nope. None of the above. It is a woman who is the same size as me. With "girl's equally as large. Who, by the way , is not as considerate as me. This means she sat flat back forward and folded her arms across her girls. Which then, made her elbows stick into MY girls. Really? Which made her shoulders and arms hog the arm rest. That just happened. The whole time, I am looking directly at her...hoping beyond hope that she notices that because I was considerate, she would readjust herself, Nope. And that's when it happened. Her legs were larger than mine so that meant they had nowhere to go.....but in my personal space. One of her legs was totally against mine and her foot was under the front of my seat. 
So there I sit, angled to the side, back against the window, legs crammed together and pushed to the left.
Annd we haven't even taken off yet. This whole time I am thinking " I need to take a pain pill, maybe a xanax". But I can't reach it because I am crammed into hell and cannot move! She falls asleep.
The plane is now in the air and the man in front of me throws his seat back. I mean, THROWS.
Oh wonderful, I am soooo much more comfortable than I was 5 minutes ago. Now I have no room to even put my tray down so I can put my tablet there to divert myself of the fact that I am in hell!!!! The entire time I am feeling like I could literally crawl out of my own skin. If given that option, I would have taken it.
When I arrive in Seattle four and a half hours later, I find I have one giantic boob. They have totally melded together. This does not make for a good look. 
My seat partner wakes up , looks at me and says " wow , that was a quick flight!!"
I might have accidentally stepped on her foot.

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