High Altitude Quirks. And Other Miscellaneous Apnoea.

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Well, one wonders what kind of innate force would make anyone stay airborne and get stuck in an economy seat for 21 hours straight on a transit flight to Vancouver every year.

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Like many people, traveling always puts me in that Mood. The urgency and expected delays aside, there’s just something about being in such close proximity to masses of people that really (and literally) rubs one's face into another human's anatomy. Some observations on a recent flight :

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When boarding a plane, the idea is to get everyone inside as quickly as possible. Therefore, you need to stow your carry-on baggage as fast as you can and get the hell of the aisle so others can pass. I don’t care if you absolutely need to get your neck pillow, your bottle of water, your Winnie the Pooh bear and your favorite paperback out of your bag before you can sit down; the reason that the people standing behind you waiting to get to their seats are giving you looks that suggest that they hate you is because they do.

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Despite the fact that you get to stay up late and watch movies, an overnight flight is really not a sleepover party. There’s no excuse for grown adults to go about in public in pajamas and stocking feet.

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If you need to get up to go the lavatory right before the meal service begins, don’t come back and force the flight attendants to move their cart 10 feet back so you can get to your seat and then demand your meal. It’s not their fault that the aisles are so narrow; maybe if your ass wasn’t so damn fat, you might be able to squeeze past them.

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Don’t be the asshat who opens his window shade in the middle of the flight while everyone else in the darkened cabin is trying to sleep. I don’t care how pretty the cloud are, if you do it again, you will get hurt.

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To the people who jump up out of their seats the moment the plane touches down on the tarmac, I have one question: What the hell is your hurry? You know damn well that it’s going to be at least another 15 minutes before they even open the doors, and besides, us poor folks in the back aren’t going anywhere for a long time. Jeez.

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To the people that laugh loud as hell when there’s a 3rd rate comedy shown when it’s also sleepy time. Jeez.

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To the people who grab your seatback from behind as leverage to heave their fat asses out of their seats. Jeez.

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I trust you've met the next-seat guy who can sleep in all types of conditions, even when the airplane's going through a typhoon from Hell. If his nonchalance didn't bother you, his snores will. For 16 hours of listening to audible sedentary rolicking of air column passing through his nose hairs, I bet you that sound will traumatize your existence for at least the next few weeks you go to sleep.

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And I hate crossing time zones. They cause jet lags.

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Jeez.