Qantas, Qantas….
Worst flight ever.
Last night as I packed. I took my bag beyond my weight allocation. This was a direct result of me refusing a “carry on.”
I wanted. It had to “all” fit.
You see carry on, is that stuff that holds you back. It’s the stuff that always ends up with you pushing your bum into the face of the person across the isle from you. In your race to get those few people ahead. Only to later be the last suitcase off the carousel .
The only sure way not to run the risk is for you to remain seated as they extract their “carry on ” first leaning well back as you know how freely flung bums can be when we are crammed in like sardines with bums.
I did it! I shaved 1.4 kg off my total by placing a roll of silicone baking paper and a box of food handlers gloves into Tracie’s empty burden to bare.
I spent most of last night before sleeping visualising the liberating sensation of just swooning from my seat and striding down the walkway totally uninhibited of the clanging, getting hooked up on, and don’t mention the little wheels, the ones that for some reason, can wedge themselves into the articulation gaps in the seat arms.
anything 7 kg and under does not require wheels. Its like trying to justify a shopping trolley for a bag of carrots and a small bag of potatoes at the supermarket. “Yes ” consider yourselves judged.
I waited till the end to board my plane, there was no rush… no need to get on and claim ownership or the overhead directly over head and not left to wander , looking for a scrap of space 6 rows back and on the opposite side of “Bum city”
I smiled at my circa 80 year old neighbour politely and said “hello” quickly placing my headphones on, for risk she wanted more conversation.
Some flights can be a bit to talkie.
I’m listening to an audiobook at the moment. A mammoth 42 hours of Steven King “IT”
Is a bit saucy around hour 5 they are having sex and talking about how many times she was pleased.
I messed with my volume control as it wasn’t very loud and I was getting annoyed that my new phones weren’t functioning properly.
Every one was staring at me.
It was then that I realised that my phone and headphones had become up paired. And the faint story of lust and multiple satisfaction was ringing though the cabin so loud I could still faintly hear it even warring my noise cancelling Bluetooth reasons to die.
Just for the record I thought that it was a thing, that any flight under 3 hours invoked the non use of the recliner function on your seat.
We should all be as equally uncomfortable over short distances.
The girl in front was tall, Amazonian like. And she wore her hair in one of those loosely wrapped buns. The ones they can twist and hold in place relying only on the last 6 inches wrapped at its base to secure it.
She reclined, and because she was tall her entire head sat proud of the seat hight. Her hair hung like fibrous light bulb shape , totally obscuring the line of sight to my 7 1/2 inch personal entertainment monitor fixed to the headrest, her headrest.
To make matters worse her seat seemed to be able to recline an extra 5cm at least over that of her neighbours.
No TV, no space and to make things seem more intense I needed to wee.
How happy was I to find that the button that released the arm to raise it didn’t work.
I had about 17 cm between the back of her seat and the tip of my arm rest to squeeze out of while still holding in a well quenched bladder.
All I could see in my head was those documentaries where the octopus seems to squeeze a small portion of its body through a gap and then somehow fills that part with its internal organs until the bit that has no filling passes freely to liberty. Needless to say my extraction from the seat was neither graceful of liberating.
I returned to my seat and climbed over the arm and sliding into position.
It was ok though. No carry on, no bums, no little wheels.
I got this…. it’s still good.
The rest of the flight was free from event until we landed.
“Please put your seats back in the upward position”
YES!
Not long now.
My elderly neighbour signalled me with an eye gesture. With out thinking I removed my phones.
Then I was met with, “can you please help me get my bag down? it’s really heavy”
This is a true story.
After my heart sank as low as it would go. She asked me to carry it to the door, f..ing bums f..ing wheels.
And there it was at the airplane door, no gang plank just a waterfall of steps to the Tarmac and far off in the distance a shuttle bus to the terminal.
For you information I didn’t use the wheels.
