#4 Flying & Its Annoyances

Greetings from Bangkok. Traveling is fun. Flying isn't. Well, it is for the first few times that is. But after you've gotten over the novelty of it all, it really becomes sometime you don't find exciting.

I always get the feeling like I'm being herded around. Line up at the check in, line up at security, line up at immigration, line up at boarding gate, line up to the plane. Sit a few hours in a cramped up seat with no leg space, then line up more. 

There is the issue of your seat. When you are a new flyer, you always want the window seat. It's fun watching the plane take off and land. And no other time will you get to stare and admire the beautiful sky 30,000 feet above ground. When you've flown more times than you are count, you always want the aisle seat. It's the nearest you get to the beautiful air stewardess, but more importantly, more convenient to go to the toilet. The centre seats are where they put you when they hate you. The spot where watching the window feels like you are staring at the guy to your left and going to the toilet means bothering the guy on your right. They both take their revenge on you by hogging the arm rest, so you end up with nowhere to put your elbow. Just shrink into the centre, don't stare, don't pee... just suffer. Yes, I sat in the centre today just in case you were wondering.  

I hate the in-flight meals. Not that their not tasty. They are usually pretty decent. But the portions are small. And the plastic cutlery feels like it was made to lift tofu only, nothing heavier. God help you if you are served something with some bone in it. Then again, I've never rated any food in a flight with bone in it. Maybe its a security risk. Who knows if the whole plane gets hijacked by terrorist at the tip of a fish bone. Gasp. 

Eating in your seat is one of those things that annoy me the most. The food is placed neatly into a tray that's size to fit exactly those few things - you can spread your food out. You can't extend you elbows because then you're encroaching on your neighbors space. I become terrified that I'd either spill something over or on myself. There I find myself keeping my elbows as close as possible while trying to handle impossibly brittle cutlery to eat food served on a tiny tray on a tiny foldable table (if you can even call it that). So delicate a process it becomes. 

What the hell man... I'm eating breakfast, not defusing a bomb. Someone should suggest to the airlines to just serve food in wraps.

Finally, it annoys the hell out of me when some people just decide to get up and rush to bring down their hand luggage the minute the plane stops. They jostle out of the rows and rush to the overhead compartments like there is no tomorrow, grab their bags.... then nothing. They stand there with their bags staring into nothingness. What the hell man. The doors aren't even open yet. Can't you chill? Now I can't get to my bag, and you standing there means I'm staring squarely at your crotch. Grrr....

Anyway, that's all for now. Cheers!