Now for a guest post from the amazing Cakes and Shakes . Remember, you, too, can be a guest blogger. Email me at firstname.lastname@example.org if you are interested!
The Ten Don’ts of Air Travel
Nowadays they will let anyone and his dog/cat/child get on a plane, meaning you are pretty much guaranteed to have an awful experience jammed in next to someone else and their weird stranger cooties. I don’t know about you, but the only acceptable stranger-cooties in my book emanate from strapping Latino men in tight t-shirts who smell like Aqua by Bulgari and have smiles that evaporate panties. Anyone else and I have to restrain myself from yelling at them, red-faced, to ‘back the hell off’ which is often accompanied by unintended flying spittle. Related trauma has led me to develop a sort of shortlist of the top things to avoid when flying.
- Never break up with your boyfriend mid-flight. People don’t like to go through break-ups first hand, never mind listening to your boyfriend whine and ask you if it’s “because he didn’t do that sex thing you like”, while crying and begging you to take him back. You will make everyone else on the plane want to rip their seat tray off and beat you with it.
- Never eat the food. Who honestly peels the tin-foil cover off a lukewarm airline meal and thinks: “yum, the gristle that wasn’t good enough to be added to hot dogs”? Use plane trips as a handy way to avoid a few unappetizing calories.
- Don’t ask the check in lady for any favours. Don’t arrive at the check-in desk early and beg the check-in lady to let you sit alone: these chicks may smile and wish you a pleasant trip, but they are universally sadistic and blame passengers for their crappy jobs/lives and this request will almost guarantee she will sit you next to the most undesirable, yeti-looking, grizzly-bear smelling, talkative stranger you never wanted to be pressed up next to.
- Avoid that annoyance known as “Freshman Fifteen”. Do anything you can to make sure you don’t end up sitting next to any young female backpacker. You know the one: decked out head to toe in North Face, she is still packing those Freshman Fifteen on her wide ass, and spends the whole flight sobbing copiously over having to interrupt a meaningful two-week relationship with some barely-formed pimply boy to go visit her grandmother for summer in Kansas, and writing him bad poetry she reads out to herself.
- Avoid the badly-shod. Try not to sit near any men wearing sandals unlike you appreciate the odour of warm, rancid cheese emanating from a live human.
- Avoid whores also. Also avoid sitting near any chick who looks like she might aptly bear the name “Trampy McSlutterson”: unless you are mad curious to hear the sex noises of the man sitting next to her: “uhhh…. Uhhhhhh… oh yeah….” All in that creepy, soft “trying-hard-to-whisper” voice more suited to a dank kidnappee-receptacle usually located in a basement.
- Grab that armrest. Don’t be afraid to claim the armrest as your territory as soon as you are seated. Everyone knows the rules of etiquette are null and void when not on actual land. If your row-mates give you dirty looks, just bear in mind that you will likely never see these people again so who really gives a fuck.
- Don’t ever board any aircraft that’s smaller than a really fat person. On tiny planes, everyone dies horribly. If you do, it’s the one time where you may wish to actually pay a little attention to the safety instructions.
- Don’t get drunk on the plane. It is a too-little-known fact that the altitude on planes multiplies the effects of alcohol meaning you are likely to a) get your rage on with an unsuspecting air hostess when she forgets to bring you your third pack of peanuts, thereby risking arrest or b) start singing Carly Simon songs at the top of your voice while crying and telling anyone who’ll listen about the time your family dog got run over.
- Also, avoid sitting next to anyone from Canadialand. I don’t mind Canadians, apart from their tendency to wear awful business-wear from the Nineties (Didn’t you know? Canadialand is where boot-cut pinstripe polyester pants and acrylic stretch-shirts with the large lapels go to die), but Jesus, get them on a plane and they will talk at you till your ears bleed. They will tell you about the hysterectomy their Great-Aunt Brenda endured, that time they got the battery on their watch changed and it was totally amazing when it worked again, and on and on till their jaw falls off or you stab them with a little plastic teaspoon.