Flying to London

In addition to being completely demoralizing, airline travel today can be a painful, even gruesome experience. When you score cheap tickets, you just know some form of punishment will follow. I would go so far as to say you can almost count on divine retribution for not paying the full coach fair. I know one thing; wealthy people (or anyone who has worked hard for their money) would never willingly put up with such abuse and frankly, if I'd paid thousands of dollars and was similarly tortured, I would seriously consider firebombing the airline's corporate headquarters with all of the executives inside.

So, (don't worry, this is going somewhere) I was traveling solo. The round trip ticket from Chicago to London was ridiculously cheap and for a brief moment I'd convinced myself that I was quite the savvy traveler. This feeling was shortlived however and it didn't take me long to realize I had strayed into an area I had no business being in. Armed with the foreknowledge that I am a spoiled American, I often delude myself into believing I can rough it. I shoved my wrist watch, change and everything else metal into my carry on bag so as not to set off the metal detector. Standing in the line I began to dream. I pictured a half empty plane; I would select one of many empty rows, curl up with a good book, maybe even take a Valium. A bottle of Evian, my I-Pod, soft cotton clothes. I would be set. I would wake up just as the pilot was announcing we were on final approach for Heathrow. Mhmmm. Well, as I am sure you have surmised, that is not at all what transpired. I peeled off my boots. Why haven't they found a better way to do this? Damn that Richard Reed fellow. Talk about unsanitary! So, I made it over that hurdle without incident and I trodded off on the long hike to the gate. Actually in retrospect it's kind of sad. I should have known. The warning signs were everywhere, but like a lamb marching to the slaughter, I had no idea. The first big clue was the waiting area. As I arrived at the gate, there were no empty seats. People were sitting on the floor. Some used a coat or their luggage as a makeshift pillow or cot, while others were completely passed out, faces planted on the filthy carpet. Garbage was strewn everywhere, it was hot and every few feet you were hit with one overpowering putrid smell or another. What's more, this was not a good-looking crowd. They were overweight, unhealthy, some had crossed eyes and collectively the most poor hygene habits I had ever encoutered. By now the smell was overwhelming. In that respect, I felt we were in Colonial America where bathing, even for the very rich was an infrequent event. The air was afoul with trash, disgusting food and pungent body odor, Need I continue? I felt as though bugs were crawling all over my body.Exhausted and depressed, I joined my weary travel mates on the floor. Opting not to attempt the face first methood, I found realativly clean corner and sat on my bag. Soon there was an announcement. The flight was oversold. Oh, the joy. Okay, perhaps this is my opportunity to bail? Should I take a coupon valid for travel anywhere in the world (anywhere that this looser airline flies to)? Hmm. What to do? Well, as luck would have it, there were no takers. Everyone sat there dazed. Nobody reacted. Not even those cheap coulples engaged in what would appear to be a life and death discussion. I saw the two airline gate agents look at each other nervously. In addition to the bad smells, there was a plalpable feeing of anger in there air. Begining to panic, they decided to up the ante. "2 for 1!" "Okay people, that's 2 free round trip tickets (that is as long as it is to one of our destinations) for anyone who gives up their seat right now." Suddenly a fistfight broke out. Man, I didn't see that coming. Well, apparently they had found their volunteers. The drama quickly subsided and we began the boarding process. By now I expected the worst and I was mentally preparing myself for a full airplane. Okay, I thought, there is full and then there is packed in like sardines! Once again, I couldn't shake the feeling that my fellow passengers were infected with Ebola or worse. When I got into the cabin all I could see was polyester. Some of it looked as though it might spontaneously combust. I felt clammy, but I pressed on. For a moment I thought I might hurl. I made my way down the aisle and found my seat. The middle seat. Great. Was I cursed? To my left was a lady with a tiny baby on her lap. Why is that even legal? I know mothers are protective, but come on? Let's be realisitc. Do you really believe this lady would be able to hang on to the her kid as the plane plummeted toward the earth? Never-mind. To my right was a large (underscore large) - make that a huge African American man. His fat was spilling over the arm rest. As a result I am leaning towards the lady and her baby, but this wasn’t really an alternative as there were hygiene problems on both sides. As a result I was contorting myself. This is really uncomfortable. How long is this flight? Is water-boarding really considered torture? I'll show you torture.

We were off. Eventually I grew tiered, but every time I began to doze, the baby would squirm or grab a handful of hair on my arm. This is not easy to do as I am not a hairy perspm. Sleeping was out of the question. I couldn't move. My back was killing me. They try to occupy you with meals, but the food is hardly edible and jammed in this uncomfortable poition, there was no way I could eat. Add to that the positively revolting odors that were wafting about, including baby food, soiled diapers and body odor. It was a smorgasbord of toxic smells. Protracted hell. The stewardesses do not want you in their way and soon every one was cuing up for the lavatory. The trip dragged on and on. The droning engines. It was almost peaceful. I thought I could doze off, then the baby became ill. Screaming and wailing. The stewardess came over to collect the airsickness bags and soiled diapers. As they quickly swapped fresh supplies for the garbage and fetid diapers, all the while passing them over me, I could feel liquids dripping onto me. I was horrified. I had to concentrate as hard as I could at one point holding my breath in order not to vomit. I thought I was going to pass out. I wanted to get up, but I was trapped. The plane was bouncing. They quieted the baby down. Ah, perhaps now there would be a moment of peace? But it was not to be so. Unfortunately the large gentleman on my right was also experiencing some sort of discomfort. He was sweating profusely - it smelled like someone poured a quart of vinegar into a pot of Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup. A cacophony of belching and flatulence erupted and literally wanted to die. If I had a cyanide tablet at that moment, I fear I would have swallowed it. I was overcome with naseaua. I watched in horror as he reached into his breast coat pocket. What on earth was he digging for? A chicken leg? Nothing would surprise me at this point. Eventually he found what he was looking for. He withdrew a crushed foil pacate of Alka Seltzer. Okay, perhaps the stewardess will bring him some water and maybe, maybe dear God, this will ameilorate the situation. No water? What? Silly me. Why would he need water? He proceeded to dump the contents of the package including the large, white wafers into his mouth whereupon he proceeded to chew them up and swallow them. I must be in hell.

Exhausted, cold, damp and dirty I emerged from the plane. It was mid morning in London and people were on their way to work.