Real World United Flight 289

So I was enjoying a lovely non-eventful travel day. The drive to the airport was smooth (thanks again, VMD, for the lift), the airport check-in was fine, and I didn’t lose anything. Sweet. I even got through airport security -- which has basically evolved into an exercise of “how naked do you want me to get?” -- relatively quickly. Wow.

I know it’s not going to last. I’m like Charlie Brown striding towards the football, except it's the travel fairy instead of Lucy who invariably yanks it away at the last second.

I’m curious, what will it be this time? Psychotic seatmate? Done that. Non-stop turbulence? Yawn. Terrorist? Who knows?

So we’re taxiing down the runway when all of a sudden, the woman sitting in the seat in front of me begins throwing up. Quite a bit. Fuck. Perhaps it was the ipecac milkshake. Maybe it was the pre-flight beef nachos. Who knows?

At this point in time, I can only agree with what Pop Renaissance and others have observed -- I am cursed. God only knows what I did in a past life to deserve this bad travel karma, but my guess is that in my past life I was one of the Uruguayan rugby players that crashed in the Andes and cannibalized his own teammates.

So I’m sitting here, entirely disbelieving what I am seeing, hearing and, shortly thereafter, smelling. The stranger sitting next to her almost jumped out of his seat, as he frantically tried to call the flight attendant. Unfortunately, the airsickness bags weren’t all that effective.

Long story short, we ended up stopping the plane entirely to make sure that the woman, who was in her 80’s and frail, was okay. After 30 minutes of inquiry and waiting, we decided to head back to the gate where we were met by paramedics who took attended to her and helped her off the plane to seek medical attention. The good news is that she appeared to be doing fine and the flight attendants and paramedics were very kind and helpful with her. Now if they only had a few cans of air freshener we would be all set.

After a 70 minute delay, we are back in the air. Karma being what it is, I figure it can’t get any worse (can it?). And I was pretty much right on. The only other observations were relatively benign in comparison:

* There’s some guy on the plane wearing a pillow fastened entirely around his neck. He bears a strong resemblance to one those disobedient dogs that wears one of those plastic collars around its neck. Two words - fucking retarded. You know, unless you have the neck strength of a three-month old baby, there’s no reason to be wearing one of those. Suck it up, Sparky.

* The captain has kindly “purchased” a round of drinks for everyone on the flight to make up for the late departure. Uhhh, hey there captain I hate to remind you, but we were delayed because someone with a weak stomach couldn’t hold whatever she consumed. Do you really want to start a plane-full of people down that same path?

* To answer your next question, yes I did. Hello sweet vodka. Nice to see you again.

* The middle-aged couple sitting next to me insist on going to the bathroom at the same time. I thought it was a coincidence, until they did two more times. Now I’m not certain if: (a) I’m exuding an aura of “angry and unstable seatmate,” (b) they’re looking to repeatedly join the Mile High Club or (c) she needs to help him empty his colostomy bag, but it’s disconcerting in any event.

* I happened to glance up and noticed that a passenger was watching some movie where Salma Hayek was running around half-naked in some lingerie. Now we’re talking! This flight is beginning to perk up a bit.

The rest of the flight was pretty non-descript and benign. It’s great to be home, even if it means that I have to return to the M*A*S*H* unit which is my job. Oh well, at least I’m not on a plane any more.

Lastly, mark your calendars, boys and girls. My next flight is scheduled for the end of the month. My rugby team is headed to Missoula Montana for the annual Maggot Rugby Festival, which should be a great time. I will endeavor to take a few G-rated rugby photos for those interested.