An Open Letter to My Fellow Passengers

This past week found me flying five out of seven days.  It was a nightmarish recurrence reprise of the days when I was flying almost every week for work.  Being on the road again brought back a lot memories, some good and some bad.  It also reminded me of how the commercial flying experience is a disturbing thought-provoking mirror on humanity.  To that sea o'humanity, I pen the following open letter:

To My Fellow Passengers:
Good ___________ (insert appropriate time o'day reference here).  It looks like we'll be spending some time together today.

To those of you who elected not to pack the entire contents of your panic room/hoard into your carry-on; who elected to not fly in your pajamas; who have never bought a Bluetooth; who choose not to snap your gum incessantly; and to those of you who have opted to wear clothing that does not reveal your epic body art, thanks very much.  You appear to understand the flying experience, which is akin to Theatre of Cruelty, and are working to lessen that cruelty.  Thank you.

To those of you who are doing some, or in most cases all of the things listed above, a word.  So you've decided to skirt the charge for checking a bag by packing your entire hoard into your carry-on.  The zipper on your bag looks more strained than the zipper on your pants that are three sizes too small (based on what most of my fellow flyers wear today, they are living in homes decked out with fun house mirrors, but that's another post) and good for you.  However, just because you've figured out how to violate the laws of science, don't ask me to lift your bag into the overhead (do you see a pair of wings on my shirt?  No, no you don't and don't ask the flight attendants either - it's not their job to accommodate your crap) or to move mine so you can now try another law of space violation as you attempt to wrench your bag up there (now you know what your gut feels like as you try to get into those tragically ill-fitting pants you're wearing).  Speaking of what you're wearing, please don't wear your PJ's on the plane.  Please.  But I guess the PJ look is appealing for some as it allows them to show off their body art (tats, piercings, gauges).  This needs to stop.  As one who frequently sits on the aisle, I'm growing weary of the close-up views of tats and piercings that I'm getting as you lift your bag in the overhead or lean over to jam your bag under the seat in front of you.  I wish you luck in your pursuit of working out your 'daddy' issues, ladies, with all the body art, but stop the advertising.  And brethren, if you've got a 'tramp stamp,' there is no blog long enough to describe why you shouldn't be showing that off.  So stop.

Speaking of stopping, stop talking on your Bluetooth or similar device.  For those of you deluded enough to think it makes you look cool, it does not.  It makes you annoying.  Your fellow passengers thank you for not using them.  Text and go silent.   And on the topic of silence, if you can't chew your gum silently, then don't chew gum.  There is nothing more repellent to me than the sound of someone snapping their gum as they gnaw on it like a beaver taking down a tree.  I think it should be an offence worthy of capital punishment.  (Editorial aside - If that were the case, the lady in 13B next to me coming back from DFW Friday night would have been summarily executed - an action I would have stood and applauded.)

So, let's make it a good flight.  To quote Bon Qui Qui, "Don't nobody get crazy!"  Let's all sit back and make the best of our time in this flying petri dish.

Thanks very much.
A Fellow Flyer