Trapped in Hell at 36000 Feet

The flight to Bangkok was going to take 24hours.  Three legs: two hours ton Atlanta, fifteen hours to Tokyo, and then seven hours to the final destination.  It has been a dream of mine to visit the Far East and while worried about the long airplane time the excitement overrode that. Still, if I had known about those last seven hours I might have changed my mind.

It started innocently enough. The first flight was a breeze.  The second flight on the biggest plane in Delta's fleet was roomy enough.  Thisuuui is where I intended to make jokes about Nancy up in first class.  Ha, ha I planned, look at me, I'm back here with the chickens eating mini pretzels while she's getting fresh rolls on real China.  I had a selection of movies.  I watched Hiroshima and Tales from Iwo Jima in anticipation of being funny.  The Japanese guy beside me watched Pearl Harbor and From Here to Eternity so it all evened out.

So we get off the plane in Tokyo and Nancy has lost her phone. Thankfully Delta found it for her.  What good fortune!  They delivered it to the gate for our next leg.  The moment her hand touched that phone it was like a dark cloud came down and touched my head.

We get advanced boarding, but I get pulled out of line for random security check.   The girl opens my carryo and takes everything out.  One by agonizing one every single item is touched, manhandled then set on a table.  While the rest of the plane boards, I'm handing over my shoes and watching them rip the soles out to check for...really I won't look like someone who wants to die for another seven hours.  I have to repack my carryon like some used up co-ed getting picked up from spring break by her parents.

Finally I get on the plane--last.

All the overheadbins are full....well except for one at the back of the plane.  I'm in the front.  In the event of a Lost-like episode, my carryon and I will end up in different parts of the island. 

I find my seat.  It's already partially filled by some guy who should have been forced to buy two seats.  Sorry, Delta but for economy comfort you should make the seats wider.  So after getting my aisle armrest up I am able to get in my seat or rather half of it.  Everytime someone passes by I get bonked in the head.  The guy next to me smells of sour crusty body odor. 

The guy has open sores on his face and oozes of future shame in the back alleys of Bangkok.  Even before we take off he's sleep, snoring loudly and molting over the armrest, seeping into my seat like bubble gum in a movie theater floor crack.

I can't reach the controls for the movies and besides the sound on my chair seems to be broken.

The guy next to me moves in his sleep. His snoring stops just long enough for him to fart.

The cabin fills with the smell of day old sushi and eggs.

Hey, don't let that get you down.  Have a bag of minipretzels and a Diet Coke.

About an hour in, the woman in the seat across the aisle gets air sick and flight attendents rush around for extra sick bags that they hold next to my face while they try to soothe the woman.

Just to make sure I'm not missing any of this excitement, Mr. Noxious Fumes jabs me in the ribs with his elbow. Rule No 1, there is only so much I will let a person sleep through.  I jab his funny bone with my Sky Mall magazine. 

I manage to fall asleep later.  Whether out of self preservation or exhaustion, I cannot tell you. 

Unfortunately no one told me about the Japanese mall walkers association meeting.  At the three and a half hour mark, all the Japanese passengers got up and started power walking around the plane.  Each of them grabbing my headrest for support and konking me in the head as they passed.

One man stopped in the space beside the exit door one row ahead of me and did calistenics.  We he finished he paused to look enviously at first class while digging out his wedgie.

Then the puker had another round. 

I thought about jumping.

As I stretched my legs, my foot hit something.  I looked and thought it might be a grape that had rolled down from first class--they had Greek slaves in togas hand-feeding them grapes.  But when I kicked it, it was hard.  I thought maybe it was a peanut M&M.  That is until it turned itself over and skittered away.

As the torture drew to a close one of the flight attendents came back and said to the others, "We're goingto arrive early. No time for dinner.  Just give them some ice cream."

In a rush they practically tossed small tubs of vanilla ice cream at us.  The guy sharing my seat woke up when his knee crashed my tray and nearly upended my warm Diet Coke.  He slurped his down his elbow bruising my arm.

We finally landed.  Longest seven hours of my life.  Unboarded last because I had to wait for everyone to get off so I could get my carryon. 

On the bus ride to baggage claim and customs, Nancy says "All in all, that wasn't so bad."

I'm gonna miss her.