Why I Hate Flying

You might think it's the fact that flight attendants are freaking out in front of passengers and pulling the emergency chute and dropping out, or maybe that even pilots are cracking under the pressure, but this is not why I hate flying. In fact, I consider it on-plane entertainment and I didn't have to pay for the headphones.




It could be the fact that I have airline disaster premonition dreams that always accurately come true. In fact, I've been in over a dozen plane crashes to the end and had to witness them in the dreams as a sort of invisible passenger. But, that's no why I hate flying.

Perhaps it's that it shouldn't be called air travel, it should be called hostage transport because once those doors shut, you are at their mercy, whether it's sitting on the tarmac or having to wait to use the restroom.

From the minute you book your ticket and find out you can't get assigned seats or not seats together, to the moment you have to arrive 2 hours early to the airport, finding parking, grabbing shuttles, being tossed around in small quarters, dragging suitcases, waiting in lines to check yourself in with a system that makes no sense, to waiting in longer lines to get through security and be allowed near your terminal, to the tedious seating rows, the people determined to shove suitcases into the overhead, to the large guy next to you with his elbows in your ribs,to having no blankets, pillows, food, and only a small allotted bathroom time when they have the cart in the aisle blocking you and being folded into a seat that has your knees poking into your nostrils for five hours. I do not like being dependent on other people for my water, comfort, bathroom time and I feel as if I'm in grade school again. I am not fond of the entire landing, picking up luggage, renting a car, et cetera.

In general, I need to come back home to get the real vacation.