Some prefer to call them “planes”.
Now, before I begin this tale, I’d like to preface by saying that I fly all the time. I often tell people how much I hate flying and they respond with the classic “you just aren’t used to it, you have to fly more”.
NO. NO I DON’T. I WILL NEVER BE OKAY WITH FLYING BECAUSE IT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE TO ME ON A PRIMAL LEVEL. MY NATURAL INSTINCTS SENSE DANGER WHEN I AM IN THE AIR. Sure, I logically understand how planes work, because my father who knows everything explained it to me. It has to do with the shape of the wings. He drew me a diagram on my boarding pass and everything. THIS BROUGHT ME NO COMFORT. Planes are the only part of my life that I can’t make sense of with logic and facts. My brain is like “Emma, you’re fine” but my heart is like “I AM CURRENTLY 30,000 FEET ABOVE GROUND SUPPORTED SOLELY BY AIR SOMEONE SEND HELP”.
But despite my distaste for flying, I have to do it often, as I am from the east coast but attend school in the midwest. This results in many flights, usually alone. In general, in a large plane, I am able to distract myself while we are in the air and deal with it. I was not prepared to fly to Nantucket. I will now recount my journey.
August 21, 2014
5:03 pm: I have been put on a 7:25 pm flight from Boston to Nantucket, having missed my earlier connection. Yay, I won’t be stuck in Boston tonight and I get to see my family!
5:32 pm: My complimentary wifi has run out at the airport. Still feeling confident in my ability to persevere.
6:17 pm: Another Nantucket flight is boarding. I envy them as I sit at the Cape Air gate, surrounded by men in expensive suits with overnight bags and women wearing unattractive sandals.
7:09 pm: WHEN WILL MY FLIGHT BOARD? Morale is low.
7:22 pm: “Cape Air’s 7:25 flight with service to Nantucket will now begin boarding.” PRAISE.
7:24 pm: I am instructed to walk down a flight of stairs to a door. The door has many signs stating that an alarm will go off if opened. Because I am an educated citizen of the world, I proceed to open this door. Consequently, the alarm goes off. I am scolded. A code is entered. A mother and her children throw shade at me for having made them endure the sound of the alarm. Sry guyz. Don’t judge me.
7:25 pm: A man walks us out on to the tarmac. He tells us to wait. My heart rate increases, sensing that this will not be the flight I expected.
7:26 pm: The man returns and escorts us to THIS TINY LITTLE SHITTY PLANE and says “Here’s your plane.” HE IS NOT JOKING.
7:28 pm: Nope nope nope nope nope nope nope. Just an ocean of nope.
7:30 pm: We get on the plane. THE PILOT IN SITTING IN THE SEAT IN FRONT OF ME. WE MAY AS WELL HAVE BEEN IN A GODDAMN SUBARU GOING TO THE 7 ELEVEN. RELEASE ME FROM THIS SMALL FLYING METAL BOX.
7:32 pm: We wait on the runway. I see my entire life flash before my eyes, preparing for death.
7:35 pm: The plane takes off and I’m like
7:41 pm: THIS IS SO REAL I CAN FEEL THE WIND BLOWING
7:58 pm: I HOPE NO ONE SAW THAT PANIC-FILLED TEAR STREAM DOWN MY FACE.
8:22 pm: We have landed. We are on solid ground. I AM STILL NOT OKAY. I AM EMOTIONALLY COMPROMISED.
8:25 pm: I go to pee in the airport and silently weep in the stall for a moment before going to retrieve my bag. Is this what PTSD feels like???
8:27 pm: My parents and cousin arrive to pick me up. My mother comes to hug me. I AM WEEPING AND IT WAS KIND OF LIKE THIS:
Guys I am not lying, this happened.
Don’t put me on a plane that small.
That is not safe.
I would have preferred to swim to Nantucket TO BE QUITE HONEST.
I could have died.
Thank god I’m still alive to blog about this.