Traveling Angler Tuesdays: Seven Sins of Air Travel

A more civilized form of air travel.

In the spirit of 'do onto others' and knowledge-sharing, I give you seven sins of air travel that drive me absolutely bonkers while I'm traveling in tightly-packed tin pigeons.

I don't do these things. Neither should you.

1. Not waiting for row number or section to board.
The mad rush occurring at the gate when the gate agent calls for general boarding is an affront to civilized society.

There is a method to the airline's madness when they ask for rows 21-27 to board. When people in row 17 try to board during this time, it messes up the method.

Wait your turn. The plane will not leave without you.

2. Not waiting your turn to exit.
This comic from The Oatmeal sums it up perfectly.

Click the image or here to view The Oatmeal's original post.

Note: I'm not intending to steal this content from The Oatmeal. The Oatmeal is funny as shit & should be read regularly. I'm hoping my numerous links back to The Oatmeal will absolve any ill-feelings someone might have for my borrowing this. I am but a moronic hack in comparison to the comic genius of The Oatmeal. Read The Oatmeal. All the time. Pre-order the book or buy some artwork or a shirt from The Oatmeal while you're at it. For more awesomeness from The Oatmeal on air travel, click here.

3. It's a touch screen, damn it!
That little entertainment system on the back of the seat in front of you? It's a touch screen.

It's not a "poke screen" or a "push with all your might screen" or a "two finger death jab screen."

Touch screen. As in, lightly place your finger on the selection you wish to make. Leave it there for a second, then remove your finger. That's it.

People are less likely to be beaten with a rolled-up issue of the complimentary in-flight magazine (or Financial Post) if they would adhere to this PSA.

4. Body odour or excessive perfume/cologne.
It should go without saying: people need to have some consideration for the other dozens of people cramped into an aluminum tube.

Don't be smelly.

5. Obnoxious overconsumption of alcohol.
I frequently travel to depressing and isolated places for work, leaving my lovely girlfriend and adorable dog behind for weeks at a time. Or I travel to fun places to fish or for vacation.

If anyone had an excuse to either drown their sorrows or celebrate with alcohol during air travel, it'd be me. But I don't. I drink ginger ale. And coffee. Lots of coffee.

If you need multiple drinks to deal with air travel, you probably feel you need multiple drinks to deal with other things in life. That means you are an alcoholic and require assistance. Visit AA.

Note: to my fellow Atlantic Canadians: YOU are the most frequent people I see being obnoxiously drunk in airports or on planes in my travels. Is Fort Mac not all it's cracked up to be? Straighten your shit out. It's embarrassing.

6. Carrying on way too much shit.
This is extremely inconsiderate to other passengers, and sadly airlines do little to enforce their rules on this.

People need to either pack less or get off their wallets and spend the extra $25 to check a bag.

Stop the madness.

7. Using other seats as pull-up bars or handrails.
This, too, should be fairly self-evident, but it's really not.

People are inconsiderate tools sometimes.

I'll share a story.

Note: Feel free to skip this story if you like. Especially if you don't wish to have your opinion of me changed.

Once upon a time, in a time long ago, I was flying from Montreal to Vancouver.

This flight is pretty much the longest non-stop flight we have in Canada, at about five hours or more.

Picture me sitting in a window seat in economy class, beside two middle-aged ladies from Quebec. Leopard-pattern pants, a zebra-print dress & leather jackets betrayed their cougarness. They scared me a little.

Shortly after the plane took off I put on my noise-cancelling headphones, lowered my hat, and dozed off.

Moments later, I awoke feeling as though a was in a deathly free-fall.

No, the plane wasn't crashing. It was a morbidly-obese man seated behind me, pulling himself up with my seat. Have you ever had a feeling of falling to your death while on the cusp of sleep? It sucks.

As Fatty moved toward the aisle, he grabbed Cougar #1's seat, and a handful of her hair, too. Same for Cougar #2's seat, but she did a preemptive duck to avoid having her hair pulled.

Note: insert your own 'cougars having their hair pulled' joke here, if you like.

The sad thing is, I allowed it to happen again more than once. Fatty was in violation of Pet Peeve #5: he was drinking a few beer but had the bladder of a small girl. Every time he stood up, he grabbed my seat to pull himself up.

Knowing sleep would be unattainable until this situation became remedied, I prepared myself for Fatty's return from his third trip to the lavatory. I requested a Globe and Mail from the flight attendant but received a National Post. I removed the Financial Post section and rolled it up tightly. I folded the tightly-rolled Financial Post in half. I waited.

I had an assumption and a quick glance over my shoulder proved that assumption correct: Fatty was grabbing everyone's seats along the aisle to steady himself as he waddled along. A flight attendant was several rows behind him, collecting empty cups. My timing would have to be perfect.

Clutching the rolled-up Financial Post, I faced forward in my seat but kept Fatty in my peripheral vision. The other passengers in the row behind us got up so he could enter. Fatty grabbed Cougar #2's seat and slid into the row. He pulled himself along the row using Cougar #1's seat. The cougars exchanged a look of displeasure.

Fatty was reaching for my seat when I turned. The flight attendant was four rows back and distracted with a passenger. Perfect.

The split-second Fatty's hand touched my seat to lower himself, I half-spun and rapped his knuckles with the rolled-up Financial Post. Fatty let go and fell backward into his seat with a look of surprise. The flight attendant was three rows back and approaching. She didn't see my clout in the name of justice and humanity.

I dropped the Financial Post in front of my seat to hide it and said firmly, "You have to stop grabbing my fucking seat."

Before he could respond, the flight attended was on the scene. "Is everything ok here?"

"It would be if this gentleman would stop grabbing my seat to pull himself up when he goes to the bathroom every twenty minutes," I calmly replied.

Poor Fatty looked confused as the flight attendant addressed him. "Sir," she said, "please refrain from grabbing the seats of other passengers."

He mumbled an acknowledgement, staring daggers at me. I smirked at him and turned back around. I replaced my noise-cancelling headphones and lowered my hat. The cougars giggled at what just transpired. I dozed until the plane landed in Vancouver.

As I stood to exit the plane, I glanced at Fatty. He had the look of death warmed over; he spent the remainder of the flight coming off of his beer buzz. Perfect.

*          *          *

Did I miss anything? What annoys the shit out of you during air travel? Was I too mean to Fatty?

Hit it up in the comments section.

*          *          *

Traveling Angler Tuesdays launched June 26th, 2012 on mattrevors.com. My mission is to prove the concept of fly fishing travel abroad is not just the realm of old rich dudes and magazine writers & photographers. Keep checking back regularly as I share tips & tricks to get you to fly fishing locales you dream of going to. To see past articles & tips, click here.