Flying with me is the worst

Every time I get on a plane, I think the same thing: flying is the fucking worst.<br><br>I’m in the airport, waiting for my boarding group to be called. I’m a giant bastard of a man, and I’m going to squeeze into the smallest seat there is, with no leg room and no recline, with the lavatory next to the seat so people can bang on the door off and on. There will be some dipshit kid behind me who likes to play with the power outlets and will jockey the tray table in and out the whole flight, with a parental unit who doesn’t care enough to tell the kid to leave me the fuck alone.<br><br>I’m a disgusting fat man, and the airline seating is built for 80 year old skinny women. I am going to squeeze my wide ass into that tiny seat and sit there, most likely next to some incredibly obese bastard the same size as me, who will inevitably be splayed out across the arm rest, touching all over me and getting his skin on mine. If I’m really lucky, I’ll get to sit next to some scrawny dude who will spend the whole flight with his nose in my shoulder because he doesn’t want to be next to the fat guy either.<br><br>I’ll have to sit on my hands the whole flight because there’s no leg room and the fold down tables only come halfway across my thighs, leaving my elbows resting in mid-air. They’ll give me a plastic tray of a tiny bit of grilled chicken with a dry brownie and maybe a little bag of pretzels. I’m hungry, but this won’t help. I’ll eat it anyway, because I’m a disgusting hog.<br><br>The kid next to me will kick the back of my seat for the first third of the flight. the bastard the row over from me will sneeze the next third, and the flight attendants will spend the last third of the flight shoving their goddamn carts up and down the aisle, so if I decide to sit a little more comfortably in my seat, I’ll get whacked on the elbow or shoulder.<br><br>Then I’ll have to wait with 300 other people for my suitcase. We’ll all pull our carry-on bags off the plane, and then we’ll all walk to the baggage claim and wait for the bags they actually put in the hold to come out. It will be a 45 minute wait, and the most annoying part will be when they flash my bag past on the screen and make me wait another 15 minutes for it to come back around for real.<br><br>At that point I’ll have a 30 minute drive to the hotel, which will be the most expensive but cheapest available. The bed will be too small for the fat bastard I am, and the air conditioning will either not work at all, or will blow cold air directly at me, making me freeze my balls off. If I’m lucky, I’ll get to catch a whiff of the dumpster outside every once in a while and remember the real reason I’m here in the first place.<br><br>Flying is the fucking worst.<br><br>“Now boarding Group A. Please step forward and board the plane.”<br><br>I stand up, and I’m happy, because the flight I get on now is the last step in my journey. I’m not going to a hotel, or a conference. I’m going home, to my lovely wife and 2 beautiful kids. I’m going to miss the warm weather, but I won’t miss the circumstances that kept me here. I can’t wait to hug my kids, and kiss my wife. I’m going home.<br><br>I walk up to the ticket counter, hand over the boarding pass that they already scanned, and step onto the plane.<br><br>I put my carry-on bags in the overhead compartment, and squeeze my way into a seat in first class that’s big enough to make me feel like a skinny little guy. There’s plenty of leg room, and I have a bottle of champagne in my hand, handed to me by a polite flight attendant who thinks I’m a person instead of a blindside obstacle for the beverage cart. The man next to me says, “Welcome aboard. Glad you’re here. Now we can take off!”<br><br>I take a sip of the champagne, and put my headphones over my ears. The flight attendant offered me a pair on the way in. I don’t have to worry about packing a bag, because I had it done for me. I’m a blind fucked up slob, but nobody cares, because nobody knows.<br><br>They want me to be happy. They want me to be comfortable, and they want me to get home.<br><br>The pilot tells the flight attendants to strap down, but they still need to come by to check my seatbelt. After they leave, I start watching a movie on my phone, which I can hold in my lap because there’s space to do so.<br><br>The plane pulls away from the jetway, taxis out to the runway, and takes off into the sky. I can feel it in my chest, but I can’t hear a thing through my noise-cancelling headphones gifted to me by my kids, who thought they would help me relax on my way home.<br><br>The flight attendant came by to check my seatbelt because I had a glass of champagne in my hand. I’m allowed to take a risk, but just one. They’re looking out for me.<br><br>I know this flight is going to be awesome.<br><br>Flying is the fucking best.<br><br>Also, check out the New King James Version of my novel “There’s Something About Ashley Diamond”, available now at booksellers near you.