Flying the Farty Skies

Before I quit my job to go to beauty school and open the spa, I was a total corporate whore. I travelled for my job constantly. In fact, friends and relatives would come visit me in California and marvel at the fact that I didn't know my way around after four years of living here. Know my way around?

I could have drawn you a picture of the typical layout of each of the major 'business' hotels but I didn't know where my local Target was. Oh, you want to go to Mann's Chinese Theater? Haven't been there, don't have a clue where it is but you want to know how to get bumped up to first class or which airlines serve fresh baked chocolate chip cookies on their flights and I'm your girl.


So when I finally jumped ship and went to go 'follow my bliss,' one of the major benefits was no longer having to get on and off an airplane several times a month. Time goes by though and when I look back, it wasn't so bad. I got to see places I never would have otherwise, I met and made friends with people all over the country, I got room service and someone else always made my bed. If I think about the very best times, it almost seems glamorous. Then on our recent trip to the Midwest, I was reminded why I'm glad the only time I get on a plane now is for a vacation.



Open Letter to the Man on the Airplane,
First of all, let me tell you what a pleasure it was to share the MD-80 with you on our flight from Milwaukee to Los Angeles. It was really unfortunate that you occupied the seat in front of me instead of next to me because we could have talked more. Lucky for me you spoke with such vigorous volume that I managed not to miss a word you said, the entire 5 hours.

I would also like to thank you for, how do I say this, accenting the seats around you with the unusual and exotic smells of your airport shop hot dog, mounded with fragrant sauerkraut. Not only did it's fruity aroma permeate better than half the plane but I had always been curious about what one would smell like as it announces its eventual descent. Thank goodness the lingering summer cold I had that had rendered me unable to breath through my nose abated just as we were flying home. Otherwise I would have been robbed of this unique sensory delight.

I know how important it is to aid your circulation, avoid deep vein thrombosis and get up from time to time. I only wish I could have provided you with more of my personal space. Your Docker-clad crotch and huge rotund ass in my face, because something was wrong with the space in front of your seat, was the perfect accoutrement to my Granola bar and Bloody Mary.

Oh, and the belching, let me not forget that. As I read my book in the precious 40 minutes my daughter would certainly nap, I could not have chosen a better addition to the ambiance than your gusto burps that no doubt signified the great pleasure you took with your culinary feast. Not to mention the constant sucking up of the contents of your sinuses, I only regret that perhaps I gave you said summer cold when you steadied yourself several times by putting your hand on my armrest as you doggedly did laps up and down the aisles. I'm sure you would have procured a Kleenex had the bathrooms not been a staggering fifteen feet from your seat.

So thanks again and I hope we fellow travelers are lucky enough to share the friendly skies sometime in the near future.

Sincerely,
Formerly Fun

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8 comments:

RiverPoet said... July 27, 2008 at 4:42 AM  

:-)

Brilliant!

D

Momo Fali said... July 27, 2008 at 1:32 PM  

Just some of the many reasons I like to be heavily medicated when I fly.

Lirun said... July 27, 2008 at 5:42 PM  

just so im sure.. do u remember what i was wearing?

A Free Man said... July 27, 2008 at 8:02 PM  

God I hate flying anymore. And for someone who lives several thousand miles from my family, that's a problem.

Captain Steve said... July 28, 2008 at 8:48 AM  

Sooo, how does one get bumped to first class? For future reference.

Monkey Tale said... July 28, 2008 at 9:05 AM  

Maybe that's why I haven't flown in years.

Joe said... July 28, 2008 at 9:54 AM  

a repeat of cpt. steves query! how does one get bumped up? and more up my alley, how does one not get oneself tasered on a flight by overzealous marshals? (im truly jinxed on flights - cud use some tips!)

floridagirlinsydney said... August 2, 2008 at 3:17 AM  

That letter is one of the funniest things ever. Hey, I'm your new stalker- love your blog.

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