I’m planning a trip, a trip to see my friend of 15 years, who is going to have some surgery. I am going to go there by plane. I really am not big on flying. So I’m checking the airline info online, and I find the price that is okay – well not okay, airfare is way too expensive for me, always, but anyway – and then they have up to nine different schedules to choose from. Flights and times, and that sort of thing. So, choose one. Hmmm. Each different choice has four different planes involved. So, which one of those planes is going to fall out of the sky? It happens, you know.
It almost happened the last time I flew. I was on one of those two-engine planes; I call them crop dusters, because that’s just about how they feel. Anyway, we were at cruising altitude, and I hear a bad noise. Those planes make a bad noise the whole time you are in them, but this was a new, extra-special bad noise. A few minutes later, the captain makes an announcement that goes something like this, “Folks, we have lost an engine. We’re turning around. The flight time back to the airport should be about 20 minutes. Please direct your attention to stewardesses name so she can show you the emergency landing bracing positions.”
Oh, yay. I enjoyed that so much. There were cops and ambulances and fire trucks waiting at the airport for us when we landed. It was special. Then the flight they booked us on next, that plane broke down before we boarded it. So they had to get another plane, and do all the brand-new security checks on it – this was on Sept. 15 of last year – and that plane did actually work.
So, I’m so gung-ho ready to choose a schedule and fly again. Did I mention that when the plane broke before, I was on the way back from the place that I’m going to this time?
I made my choice of schedules, though.
I hope my choice includes planes that do the right thing. Bring on the Dramamine!