Dear Diary,
I just flew into Texas… and boy are my arms tired.
No really, like, they’re cramped up and sore from literally gripping the arm rest and the arms of the big hairy guy next to me for 2 hours and 20 minutes as I tried to mentally keep the airplane in the air.
The guy to my right with a hook for a hand was flossing his teeth. And the pilot was all, sorry for the delay, we’re making sure the wings are balanced and, like attached, and not made of play-dough er whatever.
I’m usually not entirely picky what airline I fly on, I mean, I google if they seem less crashy and all, but honestly, I usually gravitate for the cheapest direct flight I can find. I’d fly Keanu Reeves Express Air if it was a good price, wasn’t shaped like a phone booth, and they didn’t have a Chicago layover, because O’Hare collects connecting flights like fucking Gollum.
But, I gotta say, Spirit… not a fan.
I’m just a nervous flyer, ya know, so when it feels, physically, like I’m already in a coffin, it just sorta sets a tone of death for the rest of the flight.
So, long story short, I spent almost three hours flying through, over and around storms, as I clung to the gentle ginger man next to me, who generously offered his arm to me, and said things like…
Oh it’s totally normal to swing side to side like this.
Planes get struck by lightening all the time.
It’s like pot holes in the sky.
You know what, stop it. It’s not like pot holes in the sky. I know the data, ok yeah fine, flying is safer than driving, but the difference is, driving happens on the ground, flying happens in the air, and in my opinion, the only way out of that situation is down, and I’d rather not go there.
So, I began drinking until we landed in Dallas 40 minutes late.
Thanks for letting me hold onto your arm, Louis.
My name’s Eric.
Yes, like the Little Mermaid, you showed me a whole new world.
I think that’s Aladdin?
Whatever, thank you.
No problem, I mean… the other guy had a hook arm, sooo….
And then I hugged him.
I have no idea how I’m getting home.
Love,
Brittany
I’m just one state over…I’ll come get you then we’ll worry about home! :)
How is it possible that you, the scaredy-cattest flier ever, always ends up on the worst flights?
I flew to Florida over the long weekend. I’m not a nervous flyer, but for some reason, I lose the little bit of coordination I possess when I step onto a plane. I think I gave myself a concussion when I cracked my head into the overhead bin. Which I do. Every. Single. Time. It was awesome. Then when we were disembarking, I fell and crashed into the thing they extend to the plane door. I had visions of crashing thru and landing on the tarmac. But the guy behind me caught me. His name was Forrest. He’s a runner. No lie.
glad you got seated next to that gentle ginger.
also, I love that the name Eric immediately makes you think of The Little Mermaid.
you are my kind of person.
Being broke means not getting to do fun things like fly and then drink a lot and then attach myself in creepy ways to other passengers.
But then again, I don’t have to experience pot holes in the sky, so there is that.
OMG I was NOT calling you creepy! (My co-worker was looking over at me and asked me why I was insulting a blogger I like). I’M the creepy one.
Grrr. I’ll stop stalking your blog for the day now.
Spirit SUCKS!! I flew the red eye to Miami from LA with my then THREE year old. Got to the airport two hours early to check in, only to be told me and my THREE YEAR OLD ON A RED EYE ACROSS THE NATION would be seated four rows away from each other. And not even an “I’m sorry” – just a “well, if you want to be sure you sit together, you need to pay $25 when you book your tickets so you can select seats together” Um, how about when Im booking my tickets and indicate one of the passanges is THREE YEARS OLD you ASK me if I want to book seats together, or some other kind of warning that we may not be sitting next to each other. So we get on the plane and I speak to a flight attendant who asks if any passangers will switch seats…………… and NO ONE WILL. One guy offered – he was in the aisle seat next to one of our center seats (the other center seat was four rows back) and then his wife, seated across the aisle – puts her hand out across the aisle and stops him from speaking – looks at me and says “sorry, he can’t swithch, it’s a red eye and he needs to sleep” then looks at him and says “you won’t be able to sleep in a middle seat” Dude looks at me sheepisly, shruggs his shoulders and says sorry. Well I said then peace out – I’m not putting my three year old four rows away from me for 5 hours with strangers. As we began to walk off the plane, a young man, ON HIS HONEYMOON, runs up and says he and his new wife are willing to give us their seats and they’ll take ours. God bless him. But yeah, Spirt did not give a damn, and neither did a plane full of adults…… some of whom, I have to assume, were also parents of a three year old at one time.
People suck ass on planes now a days!!!! My daughter and I were late to a connecting flight, planes fault not mine, she was 8 at the time and the ONLY person who even considered moving so we could sit together on a flight from Vegas to Orlando was a service woman who just got back from a 15mth tour who was sitting with her 15 yo son. She had him move a row or two away. I had called my hubby to let him know we made it and promtly not so quietly let him know how many douch bag assholes there were on the flight that wouldn’t move so a woman and child could sit together!!!! So yeah. When on planes, majority of people suck ass.
You should have just got on the plane. I guarantee the person sitting next to your 3 year old would have been begging to trade seats with you within 10 minutes of take off!
And you couldn’t come to Dallas NEXT weekend when I’ll actually be in town.
And don’t forget to go to Whataburger.
OMG Where are you? I live in Dallas and have been stalking your blog forever. I must meet you. I am so excited. I totally want to meet you. You are my hero! I wanna be you when I grow up (even though I am older than you)!!! I think I just peed myself a little with excitement.
Brittany Does Dallas?
you totally don’t need to go home, get andy and the kids here and live in shaunas house and hang out with me all the time.
there problem solved. you could live with me, but I live in a 2 bedroom college apt.
Hit up Southwest to get back.
Although it might go against your morale code to actually have to stop in another airport, big girls (trust me!) can actually sit in their seats.
And flying out of Love Field is actually a half way pleasant experience.
Make sure you get Sweet Tea this time too!
We used Spirit recently. I also hate flying but it was a trip my parents were paying for so I sucked it up. When I got back, I asked a co-worker when did airplanes get so ridiculously horrifying and when I told him I flew Spirit, he literally laughed in my face. I guess everyone knows that Spirit is the flight equivalent of a $25/hr motor lodge??
WHY DIDN’T YOU CALL ME BEFORE?! I would have channeled Maurice the pilot and given you the best pep talk ever.
Just discovering your blog via HuffPost… love it… I have a few kiddos too but I’m one of those “older” moms at 42. I wrote “The Nervous Flyer’s Handbook” (self-published) and despite some editing errors (well…I finished it in my 9th month, about to deliver my last baby!), it’s gotten good reader reviews, much to my amazement. A friend is editing it now, but just wanted to let you know about it in case it helps. nervousflyer.com
Just found your blog- I flew Spirit around the same time. It’s effing awful and I totally feel you.