Jitters

Not like you might think

I used to get nervous getting on planes.

I don’t really anymore. Years of conditioning myself to know how to feel on a plane by taking a pill or two and a pre-flight beer took care of that. I no longer fear the idea that the giant, heavy thing that I just sat down will force itself into the air and then through the skill of a pilot, a little luck, and whatever other unseen forces, land safely on the ground safely several hours later.

What I fear now about air-travel is threefold: delays, other passengers freaking out, lost luggage—in that order. I suppose that this is not unreasonable. I have been subject to all three in the past, though thankfully not all at once. My luggage was lost coming to Egypt once. I have been so delayed in the past that I have missed flights or had to run through the airport like a madman.

Don’t even get me started on other passengers. Top three worst:

1. Awful woman who refused to put her seat up on landing because the intercom had gone out and no one asked her personally. How could she have known otherwise?
2. Toy Daschund/Boxer stowed under the seat two rows ahead of me. His owner kept taking him out of the carrier so that he wouldn’t be scared. Seriously.
3. Little girl who screamed every minute or so sitting on her mother’s lap next to me. She would do this and then laugh riotously while her mother smiled sheepishly at me like it made a difference. I got her back by sitting there reading Arabic. It made her really nervous, especially when the—oddly—Egyptian flight attendant asked me about it and we had a conversation in Arabic. Ha friggin’ ha, lady.

Now the only variables which have matching values in these three different scenarios—aside from the obvious: on a plane, in a seat, eating peanut-replacement-salty-snacks because everyone has an allergy to peanuts now—is that these were all American domestic flights. And, all of the above-mentioned individuals, as well as their pets and children, were Americans. Hmmm?

These are all average, normal experiences.

Right before I am about to cross the Atlantic, for whatever reason, it seems like something weird, or awful happens right beforehand. In this case, it was the disastrous opening of the Heathrow Terminal 5. Who knew that it could have gone so wrong?

Luckily, I have a stopover at Heathrow this week on my way to DC. Superb. If, I’m really lucky, they will let me check one of my pieces of hand luggage at the gate, and then lose that as well. Then, they can ship all of it to Milan, and I will never see it again.

Maybe I should just take a backpack.

Anyway, these are just pre-travel jitters. They are easier to handle than the other kind. They all have to do with people, and can be rationalized. Fear of planes and flying, on the other hand, are more difficult to rationalize. I will take this type, any day.

I’ll still take a couple of Xanax, though.

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