Airline travel, is not a Milan runway , let us first just be clear on that. Comfort should be your ultimate goal when you are thousands of feet in the air and cramped in an economy class seat. Having said that, comfort does not have to be a bad wardrobe choice either...
What riles me up is when I see people wearing tank tops and shorts on airplanes and then request a dozen blankets from the flight attendant because they're freaking cold! What purpose has your tank top served you, fool?? Except you now have to cover it up with layers of blankets and later on walk around the airport with ugly looking skin cause by goosebumps!
Other disasters I've witnessed at airports are of the walking variety.. Stilettos, flip flops and skin sweltering straps! What are they thinking? They can barely walk from their doorstep to their cars and they want to navigate large international airports in these tools of torture?? I just don't understand it...
My torturous travel tales don't just end there; my last few trips have been riddled with horrible experiences seared into my brain.. I always choose comfort economy seats where available and ask the check-in desk attendant to avoid seating anyone next to me as much as he/she can. Not that I expect anything but it's just something that has to be said. I head to my gate, board the plane after most passengers have already boarded and find the seat next to me empty. I do a little dance- too subtle to be seen by the naked eye- and quietly and confidently take my seat. I look around and try not to be smug when I see all those other people cramped against their neighbors as I take out my kindle and stow away my bag. Just as the flight attendant makes the first announcement my eye catches a late passenger in the far distance of the plane's entrance. I try not to make eye contact hoping that is what the situation requires.. I cross my fingers and say all the ad3eya (prayers) I know and I even try a little telekinesis but somehow he still managed to come close. His eyes shift between his boarding pass stub and the seat numbers above and his gaze travels forward and rests on the digits above me. I continue my prayers and supernatural efforts to divert him away but he looks at me and smiles and goes, "hi! Looks like I'm next to you!"
Of course he's huge; at least compared to my small stature.. Of course he smells like he doesn't own a shower.. And of course he falls asleep, inadvertently leans against me and breathes his fumes into my personal space.
Ultimately, I spend the whole flight tearfully cursing my luck and regretting the decision to go on this trip and lamenting my whole existence...
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