If you like people watching – or if your just easily amused; the airport is an ideal hang out. During my most recent trip from Melbourne to Sydney, I was in the security line behind a grown man that had on loafers, cut off jean shorts (a no-no for men of all ages), and a floral button down. To top it all off he had ½ a head of mangy hair that had grown past his shoulders, but started at the crown of his shiny dome. I am not very discrete, so I tried to take a quick picture on my phone. It turned out really blurry, but maybe you can still get the idea. I am still brainstorming over the best way to get a close up of any picture-worthy travellers without blatantly letting them know that I am making fun of them. Let me know if you have any ideas.
In addition to people within the airport, I’ve started paying more attention to my fellow passengers on the plane - usually because the person(s) of interest are sitting right next to me and I don’t have a choice. I am admittedly an un-social flyer. I always come equipped with reading material and my iPod fully charged. Although these necessities are partially due to my inability to sit and do nothing; their primary purpose is to eliminate the temptation for my neighbour to strike up a conversation. If you can’t nip it in the bud after the first friendly head-nod; you are setting yourself up for a full flight commitment of small talk. No thanks.
According to my most recent statistics; your chances for spotting a total freak-show nearly triple when flying from LA to the East Coast; or vice-versa. It’s no secret that Los Angeles is a hub for crazies and considering the planes are always huge and typically at full capacity, it’s not unlikely to see someone who looks like they’ve come strait from the loony bin, a 5 day bender, a sex change, or one of Octo Mom’s 14 children.
With that in mind, here is a recap from my most recent trip to the US: Since I booked my flight at the last minute, I really couldn’t be too particular about my seating arrangements. I had made it through the 15 hour leg from Australia to LA and was getting ready to embark on the 4 ½ hour leg to the East Coast. When I boarded the plane I celebrated a small victory when I discovered that I had scored an exit row. Things were looking up until I noticed two burly women side-stepping down the aisle and headed in my direction. This is when I silently start chanting “Keep walking! Keep walking!” No such luck; they both squeezed into their seats to my left. It took about 10 seconds for me to confirm that these ladies were more than “just friends.” I really am not concerned with other people’s sexual preferences – but I don’t want to be categorized as a lesbian either. I gave myself a quick “once-over” and made the sad realization that I looked kind of butch. I admit, my ‘flying uniform’ could probably be described as ‘welfare chic’…but when you are stuck on a plane for 25 hours, you aren’t too concerned with winning the Best Dressed superlative. I just didn’t want anyone thinking that I was WITH them….you know….WITH them. The good news is that if anyone did get that impression, I was clearly the third wheel and the dynamic duo sitting to my left seemed to not even notice my existence. By the time I got back from the bathroom they had their tray tables out sharing a full sized bag of BBQ potato chips, a gallon sized ziplock bag full of what appeared to be Halloween candy, and washing it down with 20oz bottles of Coke. Talk about a balanced meal! Apparently all of the saturated fat they ingested made them sleepy because shortly after their feast; the love birds curled up under one blanket and passed out. About five minutes later the larger one started to saw logs like a man. Thank goodness for my iPod…I only had 3 ½ more hours to go.
In addition to people within the airport, I’ve started paying more attention to my fellow passengers on the plane - usually because the person(s) of interest are sitting right next to me and I don’t have a choice. I am admittedly an un-social flyer. I always come equipped with reading material and my iPod fully charged. Although these necessities are partially due to my inability to sit and do nothing; their primary purpose is to eliminate the temptation for my neighbour to strike up a conversation. If you can’t nip it in the bud after the first friendly head-nod; you are setting yourself up for a full flight commitment of small talk. No thanks.
According to my most recent statistics; your chances for spotting a total freak-show nearly triple when flying from LA to the East Coast; or vice-versa. It’s no secret that Los Angeles is a hub for crazies and considering the planes are always huge and typically at full capacity, it’s not unlikely to see someone who looks like they’ve come strait from the loony bin, a 5 day bender, a sex change, or one of Octo Mom’s 14 children.
With that in mind, here is a recap from my most recent trip to the US: Since I booked my flight at the last minute, I really couldn’t be too particular about my seating arrangements. I had made it through the 15 hour leg from Australia to LA and was getting ready to embark on the 4 ½ hour leg to the East Coast. When I boarded the plane I celebrated a small victory when I discovered that I had scored an exit row. Things were looking up until I noticed two burly women side-stepping down the aisle and headed in my direction. This is when I silently start chanting “Keep walking! Keep walking!” No such luck; they both squeezed into their seats to my left. It took about 10 seconds for me to confirm that these ladies were more than “just friends.” I really am not concerned with other people’s sexual preferences – but I don’t want to be categorized as a lesbian either. I gave myself a quick “once-over” and made the sad realization that I looked kind of butch. I admit, my ‘flying uniform’ could probably be described as ‘welfare chic’…but when you are stuck on a plane for 25 hours, you aren’t too concerned with winning the Best Dressed superlative. I just didn’t want anyone thinking that I was WITH them….you know….WITH them. The good news is that if anyone did get that impression, I was clearly the third wheel and the dynamic duo sitting to my left seemed to not even notice my existence. By the time I got back from the bathroom they had their tray tables out sharing a full sized bag of BBQ potato chips, a gallon sized ziplock bag full of what appeared to be Halloween candy, and washing it down with 20oz bottles of Coke. Talk about a balanced meal! Apparently all of the saturated fat they ingested made them sleepy because shortly after their feast; the love birds curled up under one blanket and passed out. About five minutes later the larger one started to saw logs like a man. Thank goodness for my iPod…I only had 3 ½ more hours to go.
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