When Flying Makes You Ask: Are You Serious?

When Flying Makes You Ask: Are You Serious?

Recently I flew to Hawaii for spring break to go see my family. While on the eleven hour flight I noticed some things that made me ask, “Are you serious?”.

On the flight from Charlotte to Dallas, nothing went wrong. Everything seemed fine. I assumed that the next flight would be the same way. I assumed wrong.

On the flight from Dallas to Kahului, I sat horizontal from a couple from New Zealand. Now, don’t get me wrong…this couple was beyond sweet, but maybe not so aware of their surroundings. About six hours into the flight, the little boy’s mother (for the record, this boy is almost two with a full set of teeth) whips out her boob and allows the small child to latch right on.

I understand that your child needs to eat, but you can at least put a cover over yourself. Better yet, you can stop breastfeeding your fully toothed baby dinosaur!

Instead of buttoning her shirt back up after the child was finished, this woman fell asleep (as did her son) and therefore left her boob out for the world to see. Okay, seriously? There is no way she couldn’t feel the breeze on her boob. The worst part is that the boy’s father didn’t bother buttoning his wife’s shirt, or alerting her that her entire boob was now any mans eye-candy.

Aside from the boob situation, there was another issue I clearly noticed: Too much perfume. I know you want to smell lovely, and want to smell like you poop out unicorns and daisy’s, but I can assure you that the amount of perfume you applied is extremely bothersome. You may have been going for the citrus smell, but I’ll be honest.. you smell like SHITRUS. Not a very pleasant smell if you ask me. When on a long flight, you will smell foul after the flight is over anyway, so there really isn’t a point in trying to apply enough to last you a month and suffocate everyone else in the surrounding area.

You may have been going for the citrus smell, but I’ll be honest.. you smell like SHITRUS.

Now, we move on to the return flight back home. Usually the shortest flight since we go back in time. We leave Kahului at 5:30 and it’s dark an hour into the flight. Peaceful for some much needed rest, but I guess others create alternative plans.

In dire need for some rest, knowing I would have a full day when I would land, I personally planned ahead. I tossed and turned on the flight for three hours. But unlike some people, I was quiet and respectful of the other people getting their Z’s and counting their sheep.

But not this man. The man in front of me decided to read. THE WHOLE FLIGHT. Usually I would congratulate someone who decided to spend their free time reading. But not when you, kind Sir, are the only one with your overhead light on. No, seriously…turn that nuisance off. I couldn’t understand why he didn’t sleep. I mean at least I brought coloring books with me.

OH, that’s not even the worst part!

After our flight landed back in Charlotte we ran into some slight difficulties. Emphasis on SLIGHT. I was already annoyed enough at how uncomfortable the flight was, and the fact that I had just left my family, had me a little more on the bitter side than usual.

I will say one thing right now… LUGGAGE IS NOT THAT HARD TO PLACE CORRECTLY.  That’s right. My poor mother’s luggage got lost. I’m sorry, did I say lost? Nope. It wasn’t lost. IT WAS PUT ON THE WRONG FLIGHT.

After we got off the flight we went straight to baggage claim to pick up my delicious pineapples and my mother’s bag, which was supposed to be carry-on, but she was nice enough to let them stow it under the plane. After waiting for the bag for thirty minutes, we calmly asked when our luggage would come. Instead of being told that it was placed on the wrong flight, we were told that it would “be coming soon” and “not to worry.”  So, we took our seat and waited…and waited…and waited…and waited.


Now two hours into standing around waiting for the bag to appear, I became irritable. I looked at my mom with fire in my eyes, and she giggled…knowing EXACTLY what I was thinking. I had hit my wits end. I was not going to wait anymore. But before I could open my blunt mouth, mom asked another woman when the bag would come. Apparently we should have known that the luggage was on the wrong flight. Oh, by golly! I WASN’T INFORMED. But thank-you for causing my blood to boil…just what I wanted…

Do we have the bag yet? …NO.

Another hour goes by… and I’ve had enough. I stand up to approach one of the ladies standing around and talking, clearly not doing anything and I notice my mothers’ death glare out of the corner of my eye. That was my signal to walk away and shut up before I caused an even bigger problem.

If you know me, you know my mouth does not shut when something needs to be said. Call me rude, blunt, bitchy, whatever you please… but there was no way I was going to sit there and watch the comical scene of two airport workers giggling and discussing nothing of importance.

So, I let it out. I looked straight at my sister and opened my big mouth right up. I think I went on for a solid four minutes, only to end realizing that the two men around the corner were hysterically laughing and the grandmother a few seats away looking like she just witnessed a man rig the Bingo game.

As the beautiful words spilled from my obviously unwashed mouth, my mother came strolling up to me. You better believe that I went ahead and expressed my anger to her.

No matter how livid I was, she was two notches under me. After she got the joyous gift of hearing me go off, she laughed along with the others. I asked her why she wasn’t mad and why she was laughing at such an infuriating moment…  To which she replied,

Kassidy, you have enough anger in you right now that I don’t have to spend my energy being mad.

I took my seat, still furious about the situation. Of course I was getting odd looks, but I didn’t have one bone in my body that cared enough to feel embarrassed for what I had just done.

Thirty minutes later… Here comes the luggage strolling down the frigging yellow brick road.

Never have I ever been more annoyed in my life. More mad? Definitely. But that three hour window of sitting there waiting for one bag was enough time to make me think of everything that has ever made me mad that all of it came out at once.

Next time you are flying and they miraculously misplace your bag for three hours, take the opportunity to blow off some steam.

It won’t make the wait go by faster, but boy does it make for an interesting entourage of people to explain your anger to.

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Profile photo of Kassidy Everard
I am a sixteen year-old with a passion for writing, traveling, and discovering new things. I am also an aunt to two beautiful little boys who each mean the world to me!

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