Puddle Jumpin’

I am writing you from my plane, my exquisite, luxury aircraft. I’m stretching my legs and enjoying a complimentary glass of Moët. Jokes.

Flying Ryan Air, the budget European airline, has proved to be be quite the experience. First off, my flight to Mallorca was delayed for over three hours. The screen changed frequently as the departure times jumped further into the the future. 19:00, 19:45, 21:35, and then finally, back to 20:56. For an airline infamous for tardiness, I found the precise time quite humorous.

We’d been waiting for hours. Ryan Air charges fees for almost everything, so the vast majority of passengers refrain from pre-selecting their seats. I watched a line 100 suitcases-long stretch across the airport terminal. Instead of waiting, the passengers left their bags as place-holders, marking their territory. One by one, the line grew. Due to increased security, we ask that you please do not leave your luggage unattended. I laughed to myself as the Spaniards continued to queue their suitcases.

The plane finally began to board, a process in itself. Believe it or not, Ryan Air has specific carry-on requirements – basically, shove everything you need for the weekend into a purse…or a zip locked bag. Angry passengers attempted to stuff their oversized backpacks and suitcases into the airline’s metal size-prototype. A few curse words and ridiculously high fees later, we were on the Tarmac.

I think the airline follows a motto along the lines of “treat your customers like livestock.” Men dressed in orange reflective vests herded the crowd in between a set of guardrails. We proceeded forward, heads down. Mooo! Bodies without names. Also, the neon-yellow inside of the aircraft has more advertisements than Times Square.

Well, like I always say, it’s all about the stories. For 30€ round trip, I get to see my parents in Spain. I can dig it.


Side-note: someone just asked me if I had a light for their cigarette. Aboard the plane. My life.

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