Air travel….

“You know why they give out oxygen masks in an emergency, don’t you?”

I’m sitting here in Coach with the ghost of Tyler Durden.  

It’s my own damn fault…I keep laughing quietly to myself at our flight attendant (who looks like an extra from Queer Eye) as he gives out the standard pre-flight spiel and directs our attention to the K.Y.A.G. folder in the seat back in front of us.  Oh course, I am also waiting for the mystical appearance of the large body of water that is suddenly going to appear in the plains and forests of the central midwest that will neccessitate the use of my seat cushion as a “floatation device”

Part of me is busy wondering how long the flight is going to last…another is questioning whether the airplane safety procedures have ever really done anyone any good.

Mostly though I am wondering whether it will be possible to actually get a Coke on this flight or if I am going to be trapped drinking Pepsi.  

And a cigarette.  Right now, I really want a fucking cigarette….

Oh course, sitting at 29,000 feet always does that to me.  It’s not flying I’m afraid of, it’s that crashing thing that continually messes with my head.  And it is not like I am on a big plane either.  A 767 is bigger on the inside than a number of apartments I have been in over the years.

This little number is pretty damn similar to a 727.  It seats 4 across (2×2) for those with a Noah complex, and in a strange way reminds me of the British Airways Concord that I flew on years ago.  It maybe because of the Noah class seating, it may also be the solemn dance of the attendant as he does a contortionist twist while bringing his cart down the aisle.  In a way I envy him right now…He can actually stand up straight in the little aluminum bullet I am currently camped out in, I have lost count of how many times I have bonked my head on the inside.

Hopefully, in an hour I’ll be on the ground in Toronto, and then I will be doing my best to help teach a bunch of people who a friend of mine referred to as a bunch of fucking idiots.

No food yet…probably no food until this evening.  It’s going to be Fionn Mac Cumhail’s Irish Pub off The Esplanade for dinner tonight, I guarantee it.

I have actually managed to get a Coke on this flight. 🙂

And did I mention I want a cigarette? 😉

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~ by maximkovalenko on April 4, 2005.

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