Are You A Bad Airline Passenger?

Airports and aeroplanes are inherently exciting. There’s a certain sense of freedom and novelty about the whole experience even having flown many times all across the world.

Nothing is quite normal.

There are weird knives to eat breakfast with, you get to walk a few paces shoeless holding your trousers up while you’re whole life is examined and those little milk packets explode over you for simply trying to make a cup of tea.

What’s not to love?

Other passengers. I’m not sure why but only annoying people seem to exist in the hollow aeroplane vacuum. Babies seem to extrude from every corner, feet seem to become excessively kickey on the seat behind, snorers align each ear and heavy set people become very particular about resting their elbows.

It seems particularly rare to encounter that gem of an aeroplane compatriot, certainly for myself anyway. Never do I end up next to a beautiful young blonde who blossoms into a long romance.

Nowhere near.

Maybe it’s time to stop living off a writer’s salary and find something more befitting of my first class celebrity dream. That may necessitate being at an office 9 am each Monday, that’s a deafening no no.

Maybe I am the bad passenger…

Particular Problem Causers.

Many flights do indeed pass without too much pain but there have been just as many uncomfortable experiences. I have had the pleasure a helping a rather rotund gentleman strap himself in as he was too… well… fat to clip his seat belt. I thought that his huffing and puffing would stop once strapped down, it did not.

Obscene carry on luggage takes a direct disliking to my forehead on regular occasions. While another individual decided it tactful to spill viscous peach schnapps over me immediately following takeoff on a London to Singapore leg. Thanks.

I have been caught out by possibly the most awkward journey of my life travelling from London to Geneva. Not a long flight so minimal damage you would imagine. Sat down mincing my way through a game on my phone before take off, a voice leans across into my ear announcing that “If you are going to sit next to me then you can’t play on that”.

Looking up, a slender older lady is sitting next to me. Speaking perfect English with a slight foreign twinge she politely demands that we must talk. Smiling, I engage.

She’s a Swiss professor of language, trilingual speaking both French and German, probably not unusual. She ascertains my plans to work in France before taking it upon herself to provide French lessons

“Get a pen and paper, this is a free lesson”…

We spend half an hour jabbering in broken French. She throws in some German which is just gobbledygook to the (my) untrained ear. We eventually continue to discuss language more broadly. She seems to be as excited by the beauty of masculine and feminine words in French language as I am by Mila Kunis.

Somehow and I’m not sure how. This led to her educating me on women and the effects of lunar patterns on the female menstrual cycle. My eloquently timed werewolf joke didn’t lighten the mood. Things take a downward spiral even before she embarks on the sentence “have you never asked your sister about her period?”

“No, it’s never really come up, to be honest with you” I reply, as I realise I am trapped at 30000 feet.

“Oh, you’re English you’d never talk about that sort of thing” I’m not sure whether to be offended by that dig at my apparent English ignorance on the subject.

I don’t know what it is? Maybe because there is no escape the confined environment makes everyone around annoying in some way.

I like to think of myself as a good airline passenger although I am sure I have been prone to the odd bout of snoring and when needed I will defend the right rest my elbows at all costs.

But then, if everyone else is a bad aeroplane passenger, maybe it’s you?

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