Kicked off an airplane for crying: http://overheadbin.msnbc.msn.com/_news/2011/07/29/7197265-crying-woman-kicked-off-plane
I’m reading this article and I put myself in the crying lady’s shoes. I’m imagining it’s my sister and I on that airplane going to see my Dad who is in bad health. I would consider myself an “ok” passenger, but I don’t like to fly. Ever since I saw that movie, “Alive”, I don’t want to envision myself having to resort to cannabilism or even try to live in the Andes Mountaines for months with just a tank top and shorts.
Give me an in flight eating utensil so I can just slit my wrists right there and end it all. Oh wait….they’re plastic utensils now so it would be a slow, painful death for me….and cold.
Anyway, I digress.
As I consider the sisters and their situation, I think of my sister and I and what we would have done if this ever occurred to us.
(daydream sequence begins)…..
As Donna and I are sitting in the airplane waiting to take off, I start crying. Not only am I nervous about flying (and cannabilism), but I’m anxious about my Dad and how he’s feeling. Never being the shy one to avoid alcohol, I ask the flight attendant for a glass of wine. Actually, they aren’t real glasses. They are flimsy, plastic 8 oz. cups at a rate of $7 -8 bucks a glass.
Perhaps asking the flight attendant for some liquor as I’m whimpering in my seat was a death wish. Maybe she’s seen way too many passengers crying and asking for booze in her life and she quickly comes to the crazy, nonsensible conclusion that I am already sloshed. Based on her evaluation of our situation, she declines and says in her very flight attendant authoritative voice, “I think you’ve had enough already.” By the way, she’s wearing one of those scarves around her neck. Upon hearing her response, this makes me want to tighten her scarf a little bit to see if she can become a little more agreeable and a little less surly.
So, I get up out of my seat and do my little head bob, snap finger movement and say to her, “So, when did flight attendants start tallying up cocktails for every passenger on board? You need to go back to first grade lady because I haven’t had ONE glass on this airplane and you think I’m already overserved???? How about you and I take this out on the wing, BEEEOOTCH.”
My sister, who obviously doesn’t want to get kicked off the plane tries to calm me down and tells the flight attendant that, in fact, I haven’t had anything to drink and then adds, “Who the hell do you think you are anyway? A FLIGHT ATTENDANT?”
So, in comes the artillery. Flight Attendants flanked us from the rear and front areas of the plane (envision the pre-flight instructions with flight attendant waving her hands to the emergency exits). At this point, I get the brilliant idea of opening up the emergency door so Donna and I can slide down the fun, plastic slide (similar to a “Slip ‘n Slide” but a whole lot bigger”) and escape into the sky while we are wearing our stylish ponchos that are also disguised as parachutes. As I’m feeling a bit McGuyverish, I push open the emergency door and the fun Slip ‘n Slide comes popping out (hey, I’m day dreaming here – stick with me).
With the wind in our faces, my sister’s got my back and takes out her nunchucks from her black belt days and start kung-fooing the crap out the flight attendants. You can see the cartoon bubbles appear in midair as she strikes the evil predators wearing their blue outfits and matching neck scarves. (imagine the old Batman series)…”KAPOW!” “BAM!” “ZOWIE!”
All the Flight Attendants are laying warily on the main cabin floor (with stars swirling over their heads). With adrenalin flowing, we jump down the Slip ‘N Slide together laughing and holding hands.
But, that’s not before I grabbed that damn glass of wine, and one for my sister too, while we parachute into a five star restaurant parking lot and have a REAL glass of wine out of a real wine glass toasting our McGuyver-esk moves.
Ok…..so the daydream is over.
We all know this wouldn’t have happened in real life. No. What would have happened with my sister and I is that we would both be taken down by Air Marshalls and then when we got to the holding area, they would uncuff us and ask us out for a glass of wine, which ends up being cheaper than $7 – 8 bucks a glass because we end up at a TGI Friday’s where they only serve Boone’s Farm.
Oh – we will have none of this. Our high school days are OVER.
We kindly decline their offer, run for the nearest exit, see an overpass and jump onto a moving semi truck which appears to be on fire. This doesn’t deter us from gaining our freedom. My sister uses her handy, yet highly fashionable leather belt, quickly assesses that there is a giant tree in our path, and lassos a huge limb with her belt, which frees us from the semi-truck which is now a moving inferno as it careens into a ravine.
At this point, I knew that those rope climbing and monkey bar skills during grade school would come in handy while we played Jane to the Jungle’s Tarzan and lept with ease from tree limb to tree limb until we landed in a parking lot at where??? A five star restaurant.
How fortunate for us!!!! We escaped those cheapskate Air Marshalls and we can now sit back, relax, and have a glass of wine. We’ll catch a flight tomorrow – hopefully no one will recognize us.