Airplane

First things first. Lets be honest, there's something unnatural about human beings flying 35,000 feet in the air. Seriously, unless you're stoned there's no good reason to be that high off the ground. That being said, I have a weakness for women. My weakness prevents me from saying 'no' to women. Any women really. In this particular instance it was my sister in law. She requested that I fling myself from my end of the country to her's in a giant aluminum cigar tube referred to as an airplane. This is where I would generally refer to her as a dumb bitch, but given that she remained safely on the ground while I took my precious life in my hands it's clear that in fact I am the dumb bitch in this scenario. Please sit back and enjoy this fantastic journey into my mind from 35,000 ft above this beautiful Earth of mine.


Flying at 6 in the morning on a Wednesday seems like a fantastic idea. In fact, it was. There were all of 30 people on an airplane designed for at least 300. So far so good. Window seat. 2 open seats next to me. No one bother me what so ever. But of course given my luck this won't last long. Two middle age women decide that the seat right in front of me will be the best place for them stink, ramble mindlessly, and destroy peace and quiet is directly in front of me. It's okay, certainly the flight will be over before I know it, right?

I'm not sure if it was one or both of these fat slobs, but someone starts dropping ass like A-bombs on Hiroshima. This is by far the foulest odor I have ever tasted (yes, it was so bad I could taste it). WHY OH WHY WON'T THE MAGIC NIPPLE IN THE CEILING GIVE ME ANY MORE OF THE PRECIOUS OXYGEN THAT I NEED???

I did manage to fall asleep or pass out from greenhouse gasses being produced by cows in front of me. Whatever the cause I was blissfully dreaming of pussy in a strange place (the midwest). I'm awoken by the voice of god. Turns out that it was actually the pilot, not god. Common mistake I'm sure. "Just want to let everyone know that we're at 37,000 ft & everything is fine." What kind of fucking idiot wakes me up to tell me that everything is fine? This is the beginning of the end. Thoughts follow.

• fuck it! I have to smoke RIGHT NOW!
• Really, if cows can shit themselves what would the punishment be for me to smoke just one cigarette?
• I knew I should've gotten stoned.
• A was wrong. 5 is not too early to start drinking on a Wednesday morning.
• Is that retard on the other side of the isle seriously reading a newspaper article about plane crash from week before?
• I guess beer will have to do. Stewardess!
• You don't accept cash? I'm willing to give you $10 for a $4 beer. I think you can make an exception.
• Cash is apparently only good for all debts public & private IN the USA not ABOVE the USA.

At this point I was having what I can only assume was a panic attack. I've never had one before, but certainly that's what was going on here. I was looking longingly at the tiny window and thinking that I should start scratching at it like a dog that wants to come inside. Also, I decided that my skin was entirely too restrictive and that I should find a way out of it as well. Seriously. I could literally feel my soul trying to escape from this perfect specimen of man flesh that I am.

Now I decide regardless of consequences that I am going to smoke right here right now. Reaching for my life saving smokes I realize that the borrowed iPod in my pocket has a clock on it. I only have 15 minutes to go. I opt not to test airline security and just wait to smoke.

On the ground. Thankfully. Of course everyone's first question: How was your flight? I relive the experience for anyone that will listen. Luckily someone takes pity on me and gives me a Paxil for my return flight. I have never taken anything for anxiety before, but what the hell it can't be any worse than what I've already been through.

Return flight. I start getting anxious on the way to the airport. I guess the 6 or so beers weren't enough. I will take my happy pill as soon as I'm in the airport. I want to be sure that I give it time to work.

Returning flight is much more crowded. Oddly enough my anxiety is melting away though. Thought follow again:

• There's a lady sitting next to me. I wonder if she'll fart. Who cares? (Magic pill is amazing)
• Never in my life have I been so at ease. I may need to get some more of these.
• Lets test how well this works. Having thoughts like: Is that a bird cruising towards engine? Are the wings supposed to flex like that? Have I seen him on America's Most Wanted? All thoughts net the same response: Who cares!?!

Happy pill lasted almost entire flight. Next time I know to take two. IPOD was able to entertain me with unusual game involving a bouncing ball for last 30 minutes of journey. Finally on the ground safe and sound. I will NOT travel by plane again; at least not without the aid of modern medicine.