Fear of Flying.

I intended to write today’s blog on a totally different subject.  

But, in my comic book strip of a life, things never happen quite how I intend so I’ve changed gears and the other post will have to wait. Sorry, Mr. D. You got a reprieve.

I flew from Houston to Los Angeles today for a week long work trip. I’ve flown my whole life, all across the globe, but I still don’t like it. I’ve gotten better at it, I accept it, but there is just something to me that feels completely unnatural about being 35,000 feet in the air. I think today I earned my wings though. I earned something, that’s for sure.

A few things you never really want to hear on a plane:

1.) Over the intercom, from the Captain: Sorry for the slight delay, we’ve had a maintenance issue, nothing serious, I promise, we’ll be leaving in a jiffy.

Yep, to me that is just TMI, okay? Like I really need to know that I am now officially trapped on a jumbo jet with 100+ other people that has a ‘maintenance issue?’ He might as well have said, ‘we’re leaving as soon as we fix the broken wing, nothing big.’ Note to all Captains on big flying jets: customers don’t want to hear that there are maintenance issues. Just lie and tell us that the runway is backed up. If there is a maintenence issue and the plane goes down, no one will care anyways that you were kind enough to warn us ahead of time.

2.) Following the Captain’s honest confession about the state of our plane, the very nice woman next to me who was about my age, flying to California for a training, looks at me and says: ‘I’ve never flown before. Ever. I’m a little nervous.’

Whoa buddy, she wasn’t kidding. Bless her heart (which is so not something I would normally say, but she really needed it,) she was a mess. I spent a good two hours of our 3 hour flight, most of it during take off and landing, trying to a.)keep her calm and b.)keep her previous meals out of my lap.

Now, those of you who know me well should right about now either be dying laughing, or dying of shock, or both. Yes me, Shannon, the person who hates to fly more than just about anyone and has white knuckled many flights after downing 3 beers in the airport bar and 2 little bottles of wine on the plane, spent two very calm hours trying to convince this woman we were not all gonna die, and she was not gonna lose her lunch on me. I even impressed myself. I used every fear of flying speech I normally need to tell myself, right on her.

She was so sweet, she really was. But there is only so far you can scooch away from someone sitting next to you in coach. I was by the window, she was in the middle seat.

This was a smooth flight. But, she was greener than Kermit the frog and I was thinking, one small bump and it’s either me or the nice guy to her right and I hope she points his way. I mean it was really close, she sweated, she held her hand over her mouth, I prayed. I was really, really thinking we were about to see Linda Blair in coach.

And all I could think was, if she loses it, I might lose it next and we’ll have a domino puke session 35,000 feet in the air cause who knows how the people around us are gonna react.

We got through it. Her meals remain a mystery. Whew.

3.) Last thing you don’t wanna hear on a plane trip? ‘The bathroom door locks don’t work.’ Now it’s a good thing to hear that before you go in that crawl space of germs to try and use the restroom.

It’s not a good thing to hear once you are in there trying to use the facilities and suddenly realize that although the latch is slid to the right in what is supposed to be a locked position, not only does the door not lock, it really doesn’t stay shut.

And guess how you find that out? After about three people walk in while you are peeing (or trying to in those horrific little closets with the nasty green water and you can almost feel the germy eyes staring back at you…)

You know how airplane bathrooms are. People lined up, squishing by each other and the stewardesses to get by. Apparently no one mentioned to the staff that the lock was broken until yours truly made it in there.

I tried to consecutively pee and push the lock back into place(sorry for the details) but it wasn’t happening. I gave up, let go of the lock, and shocked the sam hell out of 2 more people who started to open the door and saw my smiling face looking back up at them.

Then I tried to hold the darn lock and get my blue jeans up and buttoned and if you ever find yourself in this situation, I can tell you first hand, it’s damn near impossible to hold an airplane bathroom lock and button blue jean shorts.

By that time, I could of cared less and let go of the lock so I could get out of there. Finally, I was able to get out of the bathroom with no toilet paper hanging out of my pants, and everything zipped and buttoned, and went and sat back down next to my new green friend who was sipping a Sprite and taking deep breaths.

All I could think about was, when did I miss the lady with the wine cart? And is she coming back?

(Reprinted from last summer. I’m flying back to LA tomorrow, assuming I am not picked as a juror tomorrow morning, as I am also called for Harris county jury duty.)

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