Airline Travel Brings Out Social Ineptitude.

Flying brings out the absolute worst in people. It just does.

There’s the elbowing and jockeying for boarding positions. Because everybody needs to be the first to- do what, exactly? Sit down? Really? Even though every single one of us already has a seat (or boarding number), out of nowhere comes this competitive urge to beat the jerks onto the flight. And get settled. Because then we’ll be home faster. Obviously.

Once boarded, some people have the inability to just step into their row without fluffing jackets perfectly over seats and armrests. Or turning their overhead luggage sideways- taking up two spaces- to ensure it doesn’t get dinged. But God help the person in front of them doing the exact same. Flying must breed a special type of self-importance mixed with an utter lack of self-awareness.

On last night’s flight back home to Chicago, I overheard a middle-aged woman brag to her seatmate that she always shoved her luggage in the first available overhead bin- so she didn’t have to lug it all the way up and down the plane. And she could disembark more quickly! I wanted to slug her. I wanted to [loudly] point out that the seven rows of hands-free traveling in which she was luxuriating pretty much guaranteed that a person sitting towards the front of the plane would have to shove their bag towards the rear of the plane. And thusly not be able to retrieve their bag and get off the plane until every other person had left. But no, totally. Take it easy on those T-Rex arms of yours and enjoy your SkyMall.

There are the people who shoot dirty looks at the parents of screaming toddlers. Or at folks needing extra assistance or a wheelchair on the ramp. Or in the direction of people needing to climb over them to get to window or middle seats- even after the flight attendant announced that it would be a completely full flight.

Then there’s just the weirdness.

Like the people coughing directly into your eyeballs.

Or the one-sided “conversations” that last two and a half hours.

Or this woman sitting next to me who, moments after takeoff, placed her jacket over the entirety of her head for the duration of the flight.

I was seated next to The Mummy.

But even janky air travel is worth it when you get home safely to your two edible munchkin children and your heartthrob of a husband who cleaned the house.

And as long as that’s my constant, I can take the occasional 8 buck bag of in-flight chips.

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