I Would Like for You to Meet My Wife. Thanks, I’d Rather Not.
Less than a month after September 11th, I flew to Las Vegas for my friend’s wedding. At the time, I was waiting tables. I had a lot a change, but not a lot of cash. Before I left, I had my change rolled and ready to put into the slot machines. When I arrived at the airport, there was a great military presence. At the security screening area, there were two young military men with fully-automatic rifles standing at attention. When my bag came through, they flagged my carry-on, and asked if they could search it. Embarrassed, I agreed. Evidently, my bag looked like it contained ammunition. We all had a laugh when they opened my luggage to find rolled quarters, for the slot machines. One of the military gentleman suggested how I should play my meager savings on Roulette. It was something I never forgot. It was funny, but it was not. It was serious. Lives were potentially in danger and I remember how thankful I was to see our military presence.
Since then, when we travel, I inevitably have some sort of panic attack. Fortunately, for all those that have ever traveled with me voluntarily or involuntarily, because I have booked a seat on the same flight you are traveling on, will not know I am panicking; I keep this all to myself the best I can. The first hour or so into my flight, I am saying hail Mary’s, counting blessings, praying to Jesus, praying to Allah, covering all basis with the Greek gods, asking for forgiveness for my sins, recounting my goodbyes, mentally analyzing if my affairs are in order, and shouting, “HOLY CHRIST, WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE!” I avoid looking out the window and avoid all eye contact. Yeah, slightly over-reactive, slightly melodramatic, totally not exaggerated, and completely the truth.
I know deep down that flying is just not going to take me and we will make it to our destination safely. Nevertheless, it takes all my being not to run up and down the aisle yelling, “SAVE YOURSELVES,WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE!” The fact that we were traveling on the sixth anniversary of 9-11 did not help matters; rather, it just fed my insecurity insanity. I thought about my baby. I thought very hard about leaving her parentless and it scared the hell out of me.
Today, we got on our flight with 45 other people on our tiny commuter plane that seats only 50. I was just short of hyperventilation when the woman to my right breaks into quiet hysterics. She is sobbing uncontrollably and talking on the phone. We had not left our gate to begin our taxi and I hear her say something about, “That is not a good sign. That does not sound good. I have a bad feeling about this!” I am thinking, “Holy shit, what does this woman know that I do not?” My heart started racing, my pulse quickened, and I began having chest pains. I felt like I would throw up. Moments before our flight left the gate, a knawing voice inside told me to get off the plane as fast as I could.
The crying from the seat next to me continued for several minutes before the flight attendant came over to console the woman. She was seriously freaked out. I do not know what happened, but I definitely panicked myself. Before long, the sobs turned into gasps, and the gasps turned into sniffles. The pain, in retrospect, was not anything to do with me, and I felt terribly for whatever emotional turmoil she was experiencing. It must have been earth shattering. I found myself holding back my own tears, considering my own demise.
The sniffles were about 10 seconds apart and continued for the remainder of our two hour flight. I felt bad for the woman at first, thinking something terrible had happened, and dear God, no one should be so sad. Then, the sniffles made me want to open the cabin door and let myself out. Good times.
We finally arrived in Detroit for our connecting flight, where we had an hour a half layover. I think there has never been a time I wanted off a plane more. All that incessant praying on the previous leg paid off and we arrived at the Mexican restaurant near our gate, where they pushed Tequila and we obliged. Hallelujah for Tequila. I finally drowned the sniffles out of my head, but never drowned out the thoughts of the significance of the day.
We got on our next leg, which was our final flight and fortunately, Eric and I had been seated next to one another on the right side of the plane. I was in 31E, a middle seat, and Eric was in 31D, an aisle seat. Perfect! I LOVE our travel agent. On our way up the aisle, I notice a woman sitting in my seat. So, politely, I told the woman, “Ma’am, I do believe you are in my seat.” Eric was seated in his aisle seat, but this woman was sitting next to her husband in my seat. I pull out my boarding pass, indicating that, YEAH, she needed to get up. She seemed unimpressed with my boarding pass.
She told me she had already switched with someone else for that seat and in sum, she was not moving her butt out of my seat, because someone else, that did not belong in my seat told her it was okay to sit there. After realizing she was going to have difficulty moving the woman to her proper seat, the flight attendant politely asked me if I mind not sitting next to my husband. I told her, no, actually, I would like it very much if I could, in fact, sit next to my husband, as my boarding pass said I could. Just then, the woman’s husband said, “…and I would like you to meet my wife.” Ummm, thanks, but I could have gone my whole life without meeting her actually. That is still my seat your wife is sitting in. Ummm, not my fault you did not get the seat you wanted. MMMM…K? So, get up already.
That went on for a few minutes before Eric and I finally settled for sitting across the plane from each other, each in a middle seat, in between strangers, which the flight attendant found for us (two of these strangers shared with us that the couple had not actually had a seat in that row at all, but had moved all sorts of people around before we got there. The couple had actually been in several seats before they settled on ours. SWEET!). As it turned out, the couple got the ENTIRE row to themselves and stretched out in the seats. Why did they have to make such a pain in the ass of themselves? Their comfort at the expense of everyone else? NICE. Thanks for giving me confidence in the human race. I am so glad my hope for the future of our species has been renewed. GAWWWWDDD. That really helped my in flight anxiety too. Thanks again. Muah.
The whole flight, I kept thinking about how much I really wanted the security of sitting next to my husband in the event we plunge to our death; all the time looking at the woman sharing a row of three seats with her own husband.
We ended up sitting between some very nice people and stretched our legs out in the exit row. We met some interesting people and made the best of our longest leg of the whole trip. We were both glad to be headed home and traveling made us appreciate that coach travel is not a glamorous way to travel. For me, I learned to appreciate the family I have been so fortunate to be a part of. We had a great time in New York. Westchester County is lovely and beautiful, but there is no place like home. (Clicking heels together) There is no place like home.
In the same thought, I kissed my husband and baby goodnight. I reminded myself that on September 11th six years ago, other people were not so blessed. It is the little things in life that make us remember. It is the little things in life that make us appreciate how blessed we are. You never know which second it will be when all you know is snatched up in the blink of an eye.
All About Me
I can’t imagine what it would have been like to go on a flight a month after 9/11 I’m sure I would have been freaking out. Actually I get horrible ear pain when I fly – like excruciating – ear drums about to pop pain (no matter what meds I take or how many packs of gum I chew) so I would have been one of those people sitting with tears in my eyes from the pain and possibly a little from fear too.
What a pill that that woman wouldn’t move. Certainly on a flight like that when you’re already nervous it must have been twice as bad not being able to sit next to your husband.