I love travelling, but I fucking hate airplanes. More specifically, I hate the people who sit behind me on airplanes. My flight from JFK to Paris was on Air France, and I was seated in front of a row of children. Yes, that’s right: the nightmare seat. A seat in front of a row of unsupervised children who have apparently never encountered buttons before and could not resist pushing ALL of them ALL the time, violently. I tried the Grown-Up Glance, and I even tried a full-eye-contact “please stop.” Nothing worked — they would not stop hitting my seat.
Finally I asked a flight attendant if there was a another seat I could move to. “But of course” he replied (because all French people invariably sound like they are mocking French people). He pointed to a seat BEHIND the little girl who had been tormenting me. A HA! The hunter becomes the hunted!
As I settled into my new seat, I felt a familiar thumpy-banging on my back. I looked back to discover I was now seated in front of a row of teenage girls. MOTHERFUCKER. The only thing worse than chilren is old bitter children! Then the little girl in front of me slammed her seat back into my lap. I tried to move mine back also, but the teenager behind me PUSHED IT BACK UP.
This was my 6 hour flight.
People always ask “did you sleep on the flight? Did you get some sleep on the plane?” This is a dumb question. This is like “Did you eat get to eat on the subway?” Uh, yes, but it was awful and kind of degrading.…I don’t think it counts.
Once in Scotland, I used my US Passport to go through immigration. This was a mistake. Perhaps if I had used my UK passport the immigration wouldn’t have called me an idiot, threatened to take my passport away and screamed at me until I cried. Why? I didn’t have an official letter with me — which has never been a requirement for entering the UK. I assume the real reason is that his sheep stopped fucking him that morning, because that dude was an asshole. You know how sometimes you wish you were a voodoo priestess just so you could devote all your time to wishing some stranger’s dick falls off? That’s me with this guy.
But I made it! Finally!
As tempting as they seem, try to stay away from the deep fried Mars bars. Maybe after a several pints.
Sorry but being called stupid and yelled at is just the local custom in Scotland. The further north you go, the worse it gets.
true. i think they call it a ‘scottish hug.‘
given your luck, i’m assuming a similar scenario will present itself on your return trip. my suggestion: order a bunch of apple juice and let them scream.