When the plane hit mild turbulence for
the first time in my trip, directly after I pulled my laptop out for
the first time, my panicked thought was.
'Wait, was this one of those planes
that you're not allowed to use ANY electronic equipment on?' because
I have been on those planes, and I couldn't remember if this was one
of those or if I had heared the flight attendants make any sort of
announcement about this. My second, far less rational thought was,
'Oh well. This is what they get for turning off the inflight
entertainment system on a 15 hour flight to Los Angles'. See, to me,
if one person's inflight entertainment is working and they are
happily enjoying watching Marky Mark Wahlburg flaunt himself all over
the screen, just because 200 other passengers don't have this
pleasure doesn't mean you should turn the whole thing off. At least,
thats what I think. Apparently I am incorrect. 15 dull hours worth of
incorrect.
So now, to amuse herself, my window
seat companion is now going through her 4th Jacobs Creek
Wine bottle (which I personally think is very inconsiderable of her
because although she is a quiet, pleasant drunk, it means she is
definitely going to have to get up in the flight AGAIN at some point
to pee, disturbing me and the man to my left again too) (yes, you did
read that right, I am in the middle seat, aka: Torture row). It has
also left me with little option but to pull out my potentially
plane-system-interfearing-and-then-violent-crashing-burning-horrific-death-
laptop, to record these events, to save myself from going insane.
I think it is universally acknowledged
that flying overnight anywhere in economy is the only time it is ever
acceptable to sleep like this.
Unfortunately, I am a particularly
special case, and with my blessed 6'2 form, cannot reach my lap and
am forced to perform a knee massage on the passenger in front of me.
You're welcome you reclining asshole.
Another thing I'm paranoid about is
getting diseased. Both people on either side of me are coughing and
sneezing. I'd like to take a moment here to thank my mum for getting
sick last week, which hopefully (because I didn't catch it)
reinforced my immunity to this specific strain. Also, if anyone
touches or scratches their hair at all... they have nits. I'm sorry.
They just. Do.
Don't get me wrong. I am so, super
stoked to be on this plane. To be able to fly anywhere at all puts me
in such a minority group and I'm extraordinarily grateful.The chances
of me getting on this plane at all were extraordinarily slim, as with
Dad's job I get staff flight prices but with the risk of not getting
a seat at all.
If someone misses their flight. I get a
seat. Yes, I am she who prays for rainy days and bad traffic on the
morning of my flight, preferably around the rich suburbs of Sydney
though so that one of the people who misses checkin is a first class
passenger. That's the special part of my situation. I'm horribly
cramped, bored and slightly nauseous – but unlike my fellows around
me and through only sheer luck rather than because of any personal
accomplishment, status or hard work, I know of what awaits behind the
mysterious, heavy, dark blue divider curtain. First Class. The land
of milk and honey my friends, the land of milk and honey...
Attractive flight attendants dressed in
gold glittering vests, flit between seats like angels, offering you
every beverage, entertainment or comfort the world offers. They take
your coat and hang it in your own private coat locker. You have more
leg space than you know what to do with, in fact, your seat is
actually more like a suite. You have about 20 different buttons to
adjust the exact position of your chair and can even, if you so wish,
command it to perform a back massage or or gently vibrate for the
duration of the trip. The little baggies handed out with toiletries
contain more bathroom products that you personally do for yourself at
home and the pyjamas given to you are soft, light, breathable cotton
which beg to be wrapped under the large, flurry red doona provided.
Do all you econ travellers hate me
right now? It's okay. I hate me a little right now too.
One thing economy does have which first
class does not, is a sense of community. There is no pretentiousness
here. We've all gotten over the fact that we'll have to work out a
rotational system for our elbows to use the armrests, we've all
co-developed (especially middle chair me) a system of eating which
required an elbows tucked in 'attack from above' approach, much like
a hawk. We've all come to realise that in an emergency, the only real
people with any chance of making it to the exits are the people in
the exit row and the rest of us are all doomed, and we've worked our
way through accepting this together. We've rubbed groins with
strangers as we battle our way to the bathrooms and back. It's a
bonding experience like no other.
I wonder if I pitch it like this to the
first class passengers they'll want to swap seats with me...
(extra. Make that, 5 wines, and 3 more
toilet trips...)
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