Flying

I've flown a lot lately, five times in the last year.  Since all my flights have layovers, and are roundtrip, that's twenty individual flights in the thirteen months.  All of which has made me draw some conclusions about flying, namely, that it's weird.

There are very few occasions when you are asked to wait, then sit extremely close to a stranger, then wait, then hurtle through the air with little to no leg room or personal space, then wait some more.  Sometimes you talk to your seatmate, and then it's awkward to break off the conversation, because it's not like you can walk away.  Most of the time you don't talk, though.  Someone wears earphones or has their attention fixed on a magazine.  People fall asleep, and heads loll, and everyone tries to get as comfortable as possible in 1x2 feet of space, next to snoring or fidgeting neighbors.

Flying is always strange, but I think the worst flight I've had was when I was placed in an exit row.  I chose the seat, actually, the day before when I printed my boarding pass.  I wanted the extra space, but from now on, I'll never choose the exit row again.

For one thing, it's intimidating.  I've never been in a plane crash, and I know they are very uncommon.  But sitting there, knowing it is my job to successfully save people's lives, well.  It is too much pressure for my over-active imagination.

That's not the worst part though.  In an exit row, you have to be ready to jump to attention at a moment's notice for the first and last forty minutes of the flight.  So while everyone else is settling in with entertainment, I could do nothing.  We couldn't raise or individual screens to watch movies.  That's fair; they're cumbersome, and if something went wrong, they went get in the way.  But I also couldn't read my book!  I guess because, as the cabin goes up in flames and people flock to the exit door, I might hold up a hand and say, "Juuuust a second, I'm nearly to the end....of the chapter....there.  Alright, let's get this open."  And okay, depending on what I'm reading, that might happen.  But the real kicker?  As the fans circulate air and keep the temperature quite chilly, we couldn't even lay blankets over our laps.  I'm sorry, but I'm quite capable of pulling fabric to one side and standing up.  Pretty quickly, even.

Ugh.  So no extra leg room for me.  It's not worth it.  Flying is weird enough without all the extra rules.