When you envision getting on an airplane and going somewhere, you probably have one of two fantasies in your mind. You might think of short lines, good food at the terminal, and a beautiful view from high above the ground. If this is your opinion, you are an awful human being. You also probably enjoy shooting puppies and ruining childhoods. If you’re like me, you are probably visualizing the more realistic travel experience. In a nutshell, this is what you’re more likely to encounter:
THIS HAPPENED TO ME:
Your flight departs at 7:00, and you’re only just out the door at 5. The drive to the airport is a hassle, and you find yourself already stressed out. When you reach the airport, all the convenient parking spots in the garage adjacent to your terminal are taken, so you have to park in terminal C when you really need to get to terminal A. You take your suitcase and sprint to the baggage check. The line moves slowly, and when you reach the front you find yourself dealing with a stressed out Jamaican woman who doesn’t know much English and doesn’t care if your belongings get on the plane or not. Then, you wait for another couple dozen minutes in the airport security line just to be taken over for additional screening. After the dim-witted TSA employees realize that you’re NOT a terrorist, you run to your gate and barely make the last boarding call. So finally you’re on the plane! You find your seat between a large man who smells like he hasn’t showered since the dinosaurs went extinct, and a woman who keeps trying to spark awkward conversation. You’re already nervous about flying, and the only movie being shown is Castaway. You haven’t eaten in hours, and when meals are being passed around you forget how much the meat resembles cardboard and that the fish is clearly oozing. Only 6 hours left to go.
Your flight departs at 7:00, and you’re only just out the door at 5. The drive to the airport is a hassle, and you find yourself already stressed out. When you reach the airport, all the convenient parking spots in the garage adjacent to your terminal are taken, so you have to park in terminal C when you really need to get to terminal A. You take your suitcase and sprint to the baggage check. The line moves slowly, and when you reach the front you find yourself dealing with a stressed out Jamaican woman who doesn’t know much English and doesn’t care if your belongings get on the plane or not. Then, you wait for another couple dozen minutes in the airport security line just to be taken over for additional screening. After the dim-witted TSA employees realize that you’re NOT a terrorist, you run to your gate and barely make the last boarding call. So finally you’re on the plane! You find your seat between a large man who smells like he hasn’t showered since the dinosaurs went extinct, and a woman who keeps trying to spark awkward conversation. You’re already nervous about flying, and the only movie being shown is Castaway. You haven’t eaten in hours, and when meals are being passed around you forget how much the meat resembles cardboard and that the fish is clearly oozing. Only 6 hours left to go.
Needless to say, I don’t enjoy flying. The way that I start off a vacation shouldn’t be filled with stress! It should be a fun and relaxing experience that isn’t remotely stressful. Someday, I hope that I will be able to invent a transporter, so I could decide where I want to go, and then be there within seconds. You hear that, Brandon Neway? BUILD ME A TRANSPORTER.
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