I travel very infrequently. In my youth, I had dreams of jetting about the globe.
I think jetting about the globe was significantly more sexy 20 years ago. The hard cold reality is flying is not nearly as glamorous as portrayed in Pan-Am, the short-lived blatant TV series rip-off of Mad Men. Mad Men is the bomb. But that’s another blog entry for another time.
In this global society, the airlines can stick it to the consumer in the shorts and we are a powerless lot.
We are being nickel and dimed to death. $25 to check a bag. Really? All that does is encourage an entire plane full of people to bring a too big carry-on and jam it into the overhead bin. Then when it doesn’t fit, they can get the pink tag and have it checked under the plane…but without the $25. Bastards.
And then…there are the actual seats on the plane. Never have I paid so much to be so uncomfortable. Somewhere there is a group of masochists who work for their respective airline figuring out how many seats can be squeezed into a plan. Torture. Plain and simple. On my most recent flight I had an older lady with a very robust smoker’s cough practically sitting in my lap. I kept digging in my purse for my bottle of hand sanitizer. If only I had a plastic bubble, or a bottle of Lysol. Or both.
I’m not even going to comment on the food, drinks or the fake stewardesses.
Security procedures are an unavoidable annoyance. Now some airports have the new “body scanners”. I’ll admit. Not a fan. I felt uncomfortable being body scanned. Check your privacy at the door if you want to fly from coast to coast.
Any inclination I had about globe-trotting is officially squelched.
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