Important notice: this is NOT a blog about my first sexual experience, though it was painful and it does include a black guy, a flight attendant and my (later to be) wife!
Tripp!ng 1.0 or #rewindto2010
I’M NOT THAT OLD!?
I’m 24.
It sucks to be “old” – the annoying kid 2 rows in front of me got a bag of candy just because she was a “good girl” and it was (about to be) her first flight – HELLO?! It’s my first flight too?! And I’m not crying… (yet)
I decide to flirt with the flight attendant because I really need candy. I’m nervous!
BARE < BEAR
It’s a dude. “My” flight attendant is a dude. Normally that wouldn’t be an issue as I am pretty … successful around gay men (it’s funny, because it’s a stereotype) but this guy doesn’t seem to care for my boyish ginger look.
Gdamn, where is my beard!? One day I will grow a majestic beard.
CUTIE?
He seemed to notice me being nervous.
He comes to me (ohhh, yeah – I’m gonna get some candy) and he asks me the same question he asked the little girl:
“Is it your first time, cutie?” (he left out the “cutie” part, but I’m sure he was thinking about it).
I said “Yes” and he hands me a throw-up-bag.
“Just in case…”
TNX, dude!
FOCUS!
Manca is (still) making plans, going through different options, calculating and asking me all sorts of questions that I have no answer to – all regarding our next 7 days.
I’m looking out of the window: “Babe, I don’t know… We’ll see when we get there…”
I can sense she’s mad, but she makes sure that I know she is: “I’m mad. You didn’t read any of the stuff I sent you, did you?”
No, I really didn’t. But now wasn’t the time to focus on my laziness. We are about to die take off!
There’s one thing I don’t understand: WHY do we (the passengers) have to listen to all the safety instructions? There are no such “preparations” when one travels by train or bus – and it’s more likely to survive (or get into) a train/bus crash. Emergency instructions and safety leaflets everywhere! You DO know that this doesn’t give out the right message, do you? I’m talking to you, “Airlines”.
One (scared individual) would start to think that flying isn’t safe…
“ANYTHING THAT CAN GO WRONG, WILL GO WRONG”
I know I sound like a little bit*h, but everything (so far) did go wrong!
We had a delay, I’m sitting behind an African-American perfume salesman (can’t find ANY other reason why he “smells” SO much) and right next to the sweet little girl that’s biting her mom and is about to go on a farting frenzy.
“It’s OK, everything is going to be OK. Relax, Andraž…” Yup, I’m talking to myself.
I’m trying to calm myself down and I’m actually doing a pretty good job…
“Say it, don’t spray it?!”
(LoL, Manca spat on me)
“No, I didn’t!”
Then wtf happened? Something dripp… Uhm, WHY is the window leaking?!
I had a little panic attack: a small, tiny one. The guy on my right though heard me and is now having a bit bigger one.
His wife gives me “the look” and continues to calm him down.
It’s just condensation. We are already in the air and everything is going to be alright.
Yup, I’m doing it again – I’m talking to myself.
LADIES AND GENTLEMEN…
“… This is your Captain speaking. We may experience some slight turbulence. Nothing out of the ordinary. Remain seated with your seat belts fastened. Thank you.”
I read something about how it’s normal for the wings to go up and down like this (like they’re about to fall off) and that lightnings (usually) don’t cause problems.
It’s nice to be filled with all this information – it’s really soothing – it keeps your mind of plane crash scenarios…
EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE O…
…MFG WHAT’S HAPPENED!?
Just as I’m thinking how much of a “rock” Manca is to me and how I really have nothing to worry about I hear a cracking sound.
Don’t worry – the plane is OK. It’s my tooth. I spit out more than a half of my wisdom tooth.
I’m holding it and doing some basic “I-lost-half-of-my-wisdom-tooth-on-a-plane” mathematics:
We are in our 18th minute of a 180 minute flight…
When will the pain kick in?
What will I do and how much of our 7 day trip to Northern Ireland am I going to be a little nagging toothless bit*h?
I LOOOVE FLYING!
Is not a sentence I would/could produce.
Yet I am thankful that the farting stopped, the gentleman’s odour disappeared, my tooth didn’t start to hurt, our steward managed to remove all the puke that was produced in the front rows before the stench of it mixed with farts and the smell of wild African flowers, that the turbulence ended and that we successfully landed in Dublin, Ireland.
I survived my first flight – I only lost a tooth and some dignity.
I gained my first passport stamp and a chance to tell this story. Worth it? It sure was!
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TIPS for FLYING VIRGINS:
- if possible – pick emergency exit row seats (more leg room + you are the first one off the plane in case of emergency)
- triple check for your ticket and passport before leaving home
- be at the airport at least 2 hours before your flight
- don’t forget to pack your liquids according to the air safety rules in the country of your departure/arrival (EU)
- (at the security check) put all metal objects in the boxes BEFORE they execute a cavity search
- bring gum and buy some water (the air on some flights is dry and you CAN’T open any windows 🙂 )
- bring a pillow or that neck-y thing everyone seems to enjoy
- stay calm, possibly go to sleep and don’t loose any teeth
- convince yourself that you will probably die of something less exciting than a plane crash
- enjoy the view (if you are not afraid of heights)
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