More and more I hate flying. It’s not that I have anything against being packed in next to someone who invariably hogs the armrest, or in front of the kid who entertains himself for four hours by kicking the back of my seat. It’s the damn beverage carts.
Since I know that for the next several hours, I’m going to get four ounces of “sorry we’re out of diet Coke” and six peanuts, I’m forced to raid the Cinnabon stand at the terminal like Vikings sacking Rome. I have a problem with the dry air on the planes, so I chug down thirty-two ounces of watered down fountain soda before boarding. My bladder can hold exactly thirty-one ounces of liquid (I’ve measured), so my plane is still 42nd in line to take off by the time nature calls.
I sit like a sprinter in the blocks waiting for the seat belt light to go out, only to be faced with the cart that started beverage “service” about the time that parents with small children boarded. There’s an unwritten rule that the beverage cart must be in motion before they even have a chance to lose my luggage. They do this so that they may eventually reach my seat before the plane touches down.
I’m faced with a moral dilemma. Do I hang my fat ass over some business man’s laptop so the cart can squeeze by, or squirm in my seat while reading through three magazines and memorizing what to do in case of a water landing?
We’re talking the law of diminishing returns here. The older I get, the more I’m fighting with muscles that, during childbirth, were stretched tighter than a sweater on Dolly Parton. As my bladder gets weaker, my legs are also getting weaker, making it harder to leap over the beverage cart. Thighs, don’t fail me now!
If there is an upside to the whole flying experience, it’s that now that they no longer serve a snack box with a roll and a scabby old apple, I have the perfect excuse to snarf down a Cinnabon.
If you see me squirming on the plane, it’s either because my blood sugar is dropping after an airport carbohydrate rush, or I refuse to stick my butt into somebody else’s diet Coke and peanuts. I’m still waiting for mine.