Air travel is a mixed bag of nuts. I'm always relieved to find my seat, if for no other reason than to escape that seemingly never-ending aisle where you feel gawked upon by fellow travelers who have nothing else to do but sit and watch people board, at least if you fly SAS. Then as I sink into my seat, an odd serenity comes over me. I have my seat, I have my book, my job is over, now all I need to is relax. I can relax and do nothing but sit there for 8 hours and I'm not expected to do anything else. It's acceptable, and even preferable, to just sit there like a bump on a log and do nothing. Of course, those airplane seats aren't the most comfortable chairs in the world, and after a while the whole thing becomes a pain. The best thing about being in the air though is that you seem exist in a sort of vacuum. Certain things that are frowned upon on the ground are allowed up here, such as drinking alcohol with lunch. It also feels as though the troubles on the ground suddenly seem less important when you're in the air. While you're hovering somewhere between space and earth your main concern is to make it back safely onto the ground. There's also a sense of carelessness for me up there, things such as diets and sobriety don't matter.
The drawback is that you feel totally at the mercy of the flight crew. Suddenly the flight attendants become one of the most important people in your life because they're your source of food and drink. Don't think they don't know it either. Some of the flight attendants at SAS, particularly the older ones, take uppity to a whole new level. Of course, and this is the odd part since we're really their customers, not that many of us dare to give them attitude back, since we don't want to bite the hand that feeds us. In the air, people stop being lawyers, doctors or judges, and are forced to relinquish their status and power to the flight attendants. It doesn't matter who you are, unless you're flying first class, not that I can attest to that since I've had that privilege. Now and then, the captain, who in this case is God, speaks down to us from the speaker system and makes his presence known. Relinquishing power can be either a relief or a source of stress. Normally, a control freak like me hates to be powerless, but on an airplane I know I have to let go and let someone else fly the plane, literally, and there is a feeling of relief to just be able to relax and know that the only obligation I have is to hand the flight attendant my tray at the end of meal time.
I know I'm not the only one who feels awkward when answering the flight attendant's questions about what we want to drink and if we want chicken or beef. I've observed people's behaviour when the flight attendants are making their way down the aisle to take people's drink order or serve the meals. People go into preparation mode. They start to fold down their tables and take off their headphones even though the flight attendant is several rows behind them and won't get to them for another 5-10 minutes. But it takes concentration and rehearsal. You have to think, 'What do I want?' and then say it a few times in your head to make sure you get it right, because it's crucial. 'Chicken!' 'White wine'. 'Cheese sandwich'. Orange juice'. Not that many passengers manage to look super cool and casual while they're waiting. Meal times are the highlights of the whole flight. One of my favourite moments is when I get my Bloody Mary, my Gin and Tonic, or my glass of white wine, and a bag of snacks, and I can sink back in my chair and read Catcher in the Rye or some other good book, while slowly sipping my drink. This is even better than when they bring those little food trays with all the goodies. I am one of those people who actually enjoy airplane food. For some reason, food tastes better in the air.
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