rgbrock1
5th Apr 2010, 19:50
Howdy all,
I'm one of those illustrious passengers who sits during a flight with his seat belt fastened snug enough to cause his face to turn red.
I'm one of those passengers who refuses to visit the "rest room" because in doing so said seat belt would have to be unfastened. (Thus giving me that orange glow after having had to relieve myself about 3 hours ago.)
I'm one of those passengers who asks the cabin crew for a couple of bottles of red wine. Even at 07:00 in the a.m. (Not that I normally drink red wine at such an ungodly hour)
I'm one of those passengers whose knuckles remain white for about 3 days after the flight has landed.
And I'm one of those passengers who refuses to don his iPod. Not that I would mind donning my iPod. But in doing so I could not also keep relentless overwatch duty on the sound of the engines.
So with all this in mind the last couple of nights has me lying awake, Sleepless in Seattle-like, as I contemplate the Mrs. and my upcoming "sojourn" this coming Saturday.
We'll be flying from BDL (Bradley airport in Hartford, CT)
to STT (St. Thomas USVI) via Puerto Rico, aboard an American Airlines B 737-800. (Most of the way, anyway. From Puerto Rico to St. Thomas we will "fly" aboard an ATR-72. Gulp.) :eek::eek::eek:
To date, I probably have close to 1/2 million air miles under my belt. Yet, the more I fly the worse it gets for me. (Squeak, squeak.) Is it rational? Nope. But it is Fer Real!
(Or surreal, take yer pick)
Anyone care to assuage my worried, and feeble, mind?
(Suggestions concerning the accompaniment of a parachute are NOT welcome.)
Scardy cat.... Out. :eek::eek::eek:
I'm one of those illustrious passengers who sits during a flight with his seat belt fastened snug enough to cause his face to turn red.
I'm one of those passengers who refuses to visit the "rest room" because in doing so said seat belt would have to be unfastened. (Thus giving me that orange glow after having had to relieve myself about 3 hours ago.)
I'm one of those passengers who asks the cabin crew for a couple of bottles of red wine. Even at 07:00 in the a.m. (Not that I normally drink red wine at such an ungodly hour)
I'm one of those passengers whose knuckles remain white for about 3 days after the flight has landed.
And I'm one of those passengers who refuses to don his iPod. Not that I would mind donning my iPod. But in doing so I could not also keep relentless overwatch duty on the sound of the engines.
So with all this in mind the last couple of nights has me lying awake, Sleepless in Seattle-like, as I contemplate the Mrs. and my upcoming "sojourn" this coming Saturday.
We'll be flying from BDL (Bradley airport in Hartford, CT)
to STT (St. Thomas USVI) via Puerto Rico, aboard an American Airlines B 737-800. (Most of the way, anyway. From Puerto Rico to St. Thomas we will "fly" aboard an ATR-72. Gulp.) :eek::eek::eek:
To date, I probably have close to 1/2 million air miles under my belt. Yet, the more I fly the worse it gets for me. (Squeak, squeak.) Is it rational? Nope. But it is Fer Real!
(Or surreal, take yer pick)
Anyone care to assuage my worried, and feeble, mind?
(Suggestions concerning the accompaniment of a parachute are NOT welcome.)
Scardy cat.... Out. :eek::eek::eek: