The taxi dropped me off at the international departures gate and I joined the throngs of white people in the line to check in. I said to Eka, the cabbie, “so many white people!” He laughed agreed that there were a lot of white people.
I said farewell, and now I wait.
Something you need to know about me is that I get really riled up when I don’t get a window seat. First of all, I love to look out the window and check out the one and only, Mother Earth. You can see the coolest, most epic nature things from the airplane and I don’t want to miss out. Second, I often fall victim to motion sickness, and find the only chance I have is when I sit at the window seat and look at the horizon. Well, I’m in the aisle for my flight from Bali to Bangkok, and the couple beside me have closed the window. How the F am I supposed to a) continue my ever growing and changing love affair with nature and all things epic, and b) how am I supposed to keep my eggs down if things get bumpy?
Remember when PDA was something people liked to see? Hmm, in fact, I don’t think it’s ever been something people like to see. The couple next to me is having everything but sex. I’ve been thrown three elbows as a result from the violent rubbing and tickling going on, and we haven’t even taxi’ed away from the airport!!
Remember how I said, “I mostly like to sit in the window seat because the view of the horizon keeps my violent motion sickness in check” (see previous paragraph). If this making out, tickling, teasing, and other various methods of foreplay continues in the seats beside me, and that window remains closed, leaving me with no horizon to look at if I get motion sick, I can’t be held responsible for puking all over the place.
In the span of 5 minutes- since I finished the last thought- there has been a very obvious boob grab, a far from stealthy penis graze, an enthusiastic inner thigh squeeze, and an unnecessary number of comically audible kisses.
Who kisses that loud?
Window is still closed.
I am amazed. Here I sit, wearing noise cancelling headphones for the sole purpose of blocking out the sounds coming from beneath the blanket beside me. What are they even doing under there? Do I ask them to stop? I don’t think I have ever felt more uncomfortable on an airplane in my entire life.
Window is still closed. These two are clearly worried about the daylight illuminating their far from appropriate airplane activities.
The girl from the pornographic airplane show sitting next to me just vomited into a barf bag. Surprisingly, it killed the mood. Thank you, turbulence.
Window is still closed.
To be clear, I don’t mean, “ thank you, turbulence for making this girl sick,” I mean,“thank you, turbulence for pressing pause on the unnecessary, and wildly inappropriate acts of my seat neighbours. That being said, I did let out a bit of a laugh when she pulled the blanket away and grabbed at the barf bag. The man gave me a dirty look. I politely offered to switch seats with her, so she could be on the aisle and could have a quick and easy path to the washroom if need be. She was so grateful and we switched seats. SUCCESS! Not only am I able to sit at the window seat for the most glorious sunset, but I was able to disguise the suggestion as an act of total selflessness.
I love airplanes.