volatile gas in enclosed spaces is generally bad
Impressive - I slept in 'til 10:00! In no small part due to getting back home at 1am.
In fact, I would have been home sooner had I driven back all the way from Virginia. I'll explain.
The flight from DC to Chicago was hellacious. It all seemed to be gong fine... until we boarded - the plane was literally 100 degrees and stifling. They had apparently forgotten to turn on the A/C. Next. I literally had the very last seat in the very last row on the plane. Next. I was sitting beside an albeit nice, but quite odorous man. You know, the unmistakable b.o., in addition to the already sweltering climate of the plane did not make for a good combo. Next. We proceeded to sit, not fly, in this (quickly becoming a POS) plane for, count them, THREE hours!!! On the side of the runway. I guess the weather was bad in Chicago, so we couldn't get clearance to take off. But still, by the time we took off from DC it was already past the time I was supposed to board my connecting flight to GR. Grrrr!
Before we took off a blast of jet fuel fumes could be unmistakably noticed (kind of disconcerting, and tells you about the level of ventilation from where I was sitting). On top of it all, I was in no mood to chat, and the smelly guy kept making idiotic comments about the rain, complaining about the fumes, and his general level of pissed-off-ness. But here is the kicker - HE KEPT TELLING ME WHEN HE FARTED.
Talk about volatile fumes! Ok dude, I DO NOT need to know that you passed gas and I'm sure I would have noticed eventually and scooted as far away as you can in those tiny seats. Jeez! I tried in large part to ignore him, but it was pretty hard.
With some major turbulence, to the point that I was getting queasy, we landed. My connecting flight was canceled and I re-booked a later flight that was already delayed 3 hours. But, what can you do? At this point I was just glad to be in Chicago (and off the smelly plane). The airport was PACKED with people, all delayed, so at least we were all in the same boat. People were sitting everywhere, a group of hippie-ish looking 20-somethings had staked out an area on the floor, and random travelers slept on rows of chairs, unable to notice the occasional dirty look for taking up seats.
I bought an ELLE and TIME magazine since I'd long since finished my book (Neverwhere), and spent the remaining 3 hours between people watching, iPod listening, and magazine browsing.
I finally left Chicago at 9:30 (10:30 Michigan time). This plane situation was sooooo much better. There was the cutest little kid sitting in my row on this flight (thank god) and he kept talking about music with his mom. He'd hum random bars from Queen, the Doors, Led Zeppelin, George Harrison, etc. and have his mom guess what song it was! How cute is that?!
Oh! I got an apartment! The whole point of the trip in the first place.
In fact, I would have been home sooner had I driven back all the way from Virginia. I'll explain.
The flight from DC to Chicago was hellacious. It all seemed to be gong fine... until we boarded - the plane was literally 100 degrees and stifling. They had apparently forgotten to turn on the A/C. Next. I literally had the very last seat in the very last row on the plane. Next. I was sitting beside an albeit nice, but quite odorous man. You know, the unmistakable b.o., in addition to the already sweltering climate of the plane did not make for a good combo. Next. We proceeded to sit, not fly, in this (quickly becoming a POS) plane for, count them, THREE hours!!! On the side of the runway. I guess the weather was bad in Chicago, so we couldn't get clearance to take off. But still, by the time we took off from DC it was already past the time I was supposed to board my connecting flight to GR. Grrrr!
Before we took off a blast of jet fuel fumes could be unmistakably noticed (kind of disconcerting, and tells you about the level of ventilation from where I was sitting). On top of it all, I was in no mood to chat, and the smelly guy kept making idiotic comments about the rain, complaining about the fumes, and his general level of pissed-off-ness. But here is the kicker - HE KEPT TELLING ME WHEN HE FARTED.
Talk about volatile fumes! Ok dude, I DO NOT need to know that you passed gas and I'm sure I would have noticed eventually and scooted as far away as you can in those tiny seats. Jeez! I tried in large part to ignore him, but it was pretty hard.
With some major turbulence, to the point that I was getting queasy, we landed. My connecting flight was canceled and I re-booked a later flight that was already delayed 3 hours. But, what can you do? At this point I was just glad to be in Chicago (and off the smelly plane). The airport was PACKED with people, all delayed, so at least we were all in the same boat. People were sitting everywhere, a group of hippie-ish looking 20-somethings had staked out an area on the floor, and random travelers slept on rows of chairs, unable to notice the occasional dirty look for taking up seats.
I bought an ELLE and TIME magazine since I'd long since finished my book (Neverwhere), and spent the remaining 3 hours between people watching, iPod listening, and magazine browsing.
I finally left Chicago at 9:30 (10:30 Michigan time). This plane situation was sooooo much better. There was the cutest little kid sitting in my row on this flight (thank god) and he kept talking about music with his mom. He'd hum random bars from Queen, the Doors, Led Zeppelin, George Harrison, etc. and have his mom guess what song it was! How cute is that?!
Oh! I got an apartment! The whole point of the trip in the first place.