You Are Now Free to Look About the Cabin


So I’ve been on a few airplanes in the past month, and I’ve come to a pretty basic conclusion. Airplanes are full of extremely bizarre people. That may not be the most novel statement you’ve heard recently, but in the last several weeks- I’ve found it to be extremely accurate.

Now. I’m not extremely wealthy. In fact, I’m rather poor. Pauperized, if you will. If my mom invites me to lunch, I’m going to go. Every. Fucking. Time. What this means is there is only one airline I empower. Don’t get me wrong, Southwest is great. I repeat: SOUTHWEST IS GREAT. If you’re sitting next to a decent looking girl and you’ve got a few drink coupons, it’s probably going to be an enjoyable experience.

Reasons why that NEVER fucking happens:

Open seating. Enormous potential. It’s the classic situation we all loved in third grade. But as a 23-year old, I’m not seeing much success. Now. It’s a great deal if you’re the type of dude who’s gonna swing your dick all over the terminal, looking for that girl you can ‘save a seat for’ while you piss everyone else off. But if you’re like me, you’ll be a gigantic pussy and find a comfortable window seat near the back of the plane, then proceed to just sit there trying to look nice, hoping someone will realize how fucking cool you really are based solely on the fact that you haven’t spent the past hour scaring girls at the gate in an XL Tap Out hoodie.

But lets be honest. No one sees it that way. Why?

Point #2. Most of the people on those planes are incapable of viewing it that way. That’s because people who ride on Southwest are weird/stupid. At least, more likely to be weird/stupid. It’s science. Cheaper tickets mean weirder/stupider people. If you don’t understand that, then you definitely don’t ride on Southwest. I get genuinely depressed looking around thinking, is this random selection of human beings an accurate representation of the American people? Yikes.

Here’s what happens:

You sit in your seat and wait. It’s a bit exciting. There’s always a chance. Perhaps you make eye-contact with an attractive female coming your way. Maybe it’s your buddy from college you haven’t seen in years. Perhaps it’s your brother. The point I’m trying to make is that It doesn’t really matter who the fuck it is you want to sit next to you.

They won’t make it.

The 65-year old Asian woman in sunglasses will plop down in that cheap-ass leather seat just in time to ruin your pathetic life. Oh, how she will shit all over it. She probably won’t even ask if anyone is sitting there. Just sits down and starts shuffling through her MASSIVE handbag. Pulling out ziplock bags full of pills and tampons and all sorts of weird shit. You know she’ll make a pre-flight call on that weird looking cell-phone that no one’s ever seen before. You also know that conversation will be held in an uncomfortably loud Asian dialect. She sucks and you hate her. You can attempt to talk to her if you’d like. And by talk I mean ask one question, watch her middle-aged-woman mustache dance around when she speaks, then take a Xanax and put your headphones on. When you wake up eight hours later, she’ll still be there.


Point #3. It doesn’t help that most of the stewardess girls look like train-wreck victims. Oh wait a second, that sentence doesn’t make any sense seeing as almost HALF OF THE FLIGHT ATTENDANTS ARE MEN. When did that become okay? Pan Am doesn’t help either. Most of these women are 5′ 3″, 180 lbs, have bright red-orange poofy hair, and wear purple eye shadow. Little gargoyles walking up and down the aisles taking drink orders. Handing out peanuts. Most of them like to tell jokes and/or sing songs over the intercom and demand applause after the crickets quiet down. You know the pilots are drunk in the cockpit like, “Really. Marsha is doing that again.”

Fuckin’ Marsha.

This isn’t to say I’m ever going to stop flying Southwest. Who the fuck doesn’t fly Southwest? It’s by far the cheapest and easiest way to fly. But honestly, take a look around next time. Listen to what some of these people are talking about. Watch the 25 year old skin-head jump into the aisle the second the ‘fasten-your-seatbelt’ light turns off and sprint to the front of the front of the plane so he can get off before everyone else. Watch the middle age businessman’s Rolex quiver as he squeezes the life out of the armrests during landing. But most importantly listen to the male stewardess as he leans into your aisle and fires this classic line,

“Hey guy, make sure the mask goes on yourself first before you put it on the kid.. mmk?”

Sure thing, Elliot.


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