Special Ingredients: International Travel For Dummies

I’m developing a reputation as a cynic…

That is not an apology. I’m quite proud of my cynicism. I think it suits me.

I can also be a narcissistic prick, though I make an effort not to make claims I can’t at least partway back up. Which is why I now state the obvious: I sincerely believe I am the most widely traveled member of this specific online community (current estimate: 3 members).

Never did this thought sink in more deeply than when I was boarding the airplane out of Korea a month ago. The lady before me glanced at the lounge chairs at the front of the plane and gasped, managing to sound quite astonished, “Ooo, chairs with arms…”

To which I calmly replied, “Aristocratic bastards. They’re going to be the first to go if we smash into something…”

She gave me a horrified expression, which I accepted as my due, and hurried away to find her seat. Most likely she was one of those morons who was going to try cramming some bulky object, say for example a lawn tractor, into a space in the overhead compartment barely large enough for a toaster.

The flight attendant will tell her it’s not going to fit, but she’ll insist that if she just twists it the right way, it will magically reduce the size by half and slide in as if it wasn't even there. And when I say “she twists” I mean, of course, her husband, who is feeling rather stupid trying to shove a lawn tractor into a toaster oven.

Come to think of it, if the woman were to actually attempt it herself, she might actually get it to fit. God knows they manage to cram an entire bedroom set in a suitcase that most men, more sensibly, toss a few overcoats into and call that their wardrobe for the week. How do you think women manage to do this? Because they fold and sort and compact everything together as tight as it will go, and because they are smart enough to actually plan.

Which men, by the way, are not. While most women know that the suitcase would actually fit if you twisted it right, most men are not trying to twist at all, and are simply trying to apply enough force that the suitcase actually pushes through the bulkhead until part of it is sticking outside the plane. But that’s alright. We will MAKE it fit!

If, as sometime happens, two women are traveling together, they will make a big show of not being able to lift the heavy piece of luggage until some big strong man comes along to put it in the overhead bin for them. Usually, that is where I come in. And I’m going to stop right now because I just insulted myself.

By the time I finally get to my seat, having helped two pairs of ladies lift their luggage, I am thoroughly exhausted. If the ladies were halfway attractive, it never fails that they will sit nowhere near me. So now I am all by myself, waiting for takeoff.

Only then do I realize how inconsiderate I was earlier. That poor lady was probably a new passenger, and I just implied that planes smash into things all the time. It almost makes me wonder if I have become jaded. Have I, after so many flights, forgotten what it is like to be a new passenger? Have I forgotten something fundamental?

That’s because anyone with an ounce of sense would know it doesn’t make sense to board planes front to back. Apparently the airlines think this is some kind of prestige for their passengers. The one’s who paid the most, who get the seats in front, should get to board first. What are you, stupid?

Think about it. When boarding a bus, what is the most efficient way to board? Of course, the first one on should go to the back, which allows the rest to get on at a relatively even pace. Add people trying to fit lawn tractors into toasters, and you get even more difficulty. Personally, I think they do it as sort of a preflight show for the rich people, so they can watch us peons mumble and crunch against each other as we scramble toward our seats. I’m surprised they don’t ask us to get off and do it again.

New passengers recognize this sort of thing. When I was a new passenger, I certainly pointed it out. Yet somehow, over the course of many, many boardings and many, many shows for the rich folk, it completely slipped my mind. Society screws with you so much that eventually, not only do you not mind, but you don’t even realize you’re being screwed with. This is what I’m talking about.

I’ll tell you another reason the rich people sit up front. This way, they aren’t bothered by the emergency exit duties. If you are seated in an exit row, they have to ensure that you are willing and able to assist passengers out of the plane in event of a water landing. There’s even a little card you have to read.

For the record, I asked a flight attendant how many successful water landings there have been in the history of commercial aviation. She said there were none.

I’m not trying to scare you, but the simple fact is that if one of the engines suddenly goes out over the ocean, you are going to die. Forget about the breathing apparatus that drops from the ceiling. Forget that your seat cushion can be used as a floatation device. You are going to die.

I should note that I only rarely am seated in an exit row. You would think they would do some checking to see who the most physically able passengers are, if they were really at all concerned about water landing. I, perhaps the most knowledgeable person on the plane about water landing protocol, never get to do it. They usually give it to people who want the extra leg room.

Instead, I always, always get the seat directly over the wing. This illustrates an even more important, and potentially more life threatening, duty than water-landing duty: gremlin duty.

Forget about helping fat people slide out the inflatable tube. If a gremlin lands on the wing of the plane in mid-flight and starts tearing apart the engine, it is my responsibility and my responsibility alone to do something about it. Gremlin duty is even more treacherous now that they’ve taken away anything that can potentially be used as a weapon. That’s why I always try to sneak a few plastic lighters on, just in case.

I also try to get a window seat, if at all possible, which sometimes means trading seats with someone, which means that the entire plane is then forced into seat-tag. Since I am a victim of seat-tag far more often than I start it, and being as it benefits everyone in the end, this doesn’t bother me.

The advantage of being against the window is that I get to rest my head on something other the guy next to me if I feel like falling asleep. I know the seats recline, but it seems like that would be pretty rude to the person behind me and I’ve never tried it. They also don’t give you the necessary neck support, so unless the guy next to you is particularly friendly, I recommend a window seat.

The obvious trade off is that it’s a huge ordeal to have to go to the bathroom in the middle of the flight. The last time I got stuck in a window seat, I amused myself by looking out at the clouds while silently cursing the man sitting next to me, who seemed to have a bladder of steel and would not wake up for anything.

So I peed on him.

Just kidding. I peed out the window.

That very same trip, I woke in the middle of the flight to some very disturbing turbulence wherein the plane went in to free-fall three times in a row. People were actually starting to panic around me. As I said, if your engine fails over the ocean, you're basically going to die.

Which is why, I hope you don’t mind me saying, I rather hope nobody wakes me if suddenly we discover we’re all going to die. I imagine the dialog would go something like this:

Person: Mister… wake up!

Me: What?!

Person: We’re all going to die!

Me: So why’d you wake me?!

Person: I thought you might like to get your affairs in order, or something…

Me: Thanks a lot.

Lady: I can’t get my lawn tractor down!

This may sound odd, but seriously, if I’m going to die anyway I’d rather like to sleep though it.

And speaking of sleeping through things, I’ve seen more movies on airline flights than I would probably ever care to see on the ground. And when I say “seen,” that’s exactly what I mean. For some crazy reason, when I’m trying to take a nap on the plane, I can never seem to find the energy to plug in those cheap headphones they give you. As if the energy it takes to open the plastic package would prohibit my getting back to sleep. I guess that’s one of the tricks people play on themselves.

But what’s even more bizarre is that they collect the headsets at the end of the flight, as though we’re all going to sell bootleg earphones. They can’t even re-use them since we took them out of the packaging at the beginning of the flight.

You’ll notice that I haven’t made any jokes about airline food yet. There’s a very good reason for this, because although these are very classic, very easy jokes to make, I actually like most airline food. Sometimes you have to take what you get, and in the case of airlines, it’s the little things that make life worth living.

So now you know everything there is to know about international travel, armed with my words and my wisdom. I have full confidence that you will now go forth, and in the true spirit of this guide (lest you forget the name)…

…behave like dummies.