Have you ever puked on an airplane?
I have. Only once. Well. I puked more than once but it was all on the same flight.
I still to this day do not know what upset my poor wittle tummy. Wendy and I had just spent three days in Las Vegas eating and drinking and not sleeping enough. Maybe it was that. Or it could have had something to do with the Bloody Marys we swilled at the airport prior to boarding our flight. I suppose it could have been a bug. Cause was irrelevant. It was the puking that counted.
Thankfully the flight was not crowded. I didn't have to worry about not finding an open bathroom when I needed one. I sat there wretchedly in my seat, moaning softly, rocking back and forth, my arms clutched to my stomach. Wendy periodically patted my head, looking sympathetic. The lady in the row across the aisle kept glancing at me, not so surreptitiously. When the mood struck (and you know what I mean by mood), I raced down the aisle uncontested and closeted myself in one of those tiny little bathrooms.
Last week I was reminded of that experience upon reading that National Airport... oh wait, excuse me, I mean Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport... will be eliminating a rule instituted after 9/11. You may or may not be aware that post-9/11, passengers flying out of or into National Airport were not allowed to leave their seats during the first or last 30 minutes of the flight.
My puking experience was post-9/11. Therefore as we hit that 30 minute boundary, the announcement was made that under no circumstance was anyone to leave their seat until the plane landed.
Uh oh.
Uh oh?
Heck no!
The airline provides those theretofore useless to me Barf Bags at every seat!
Right then, right when the ray of realization dawned that I was going to have to vomit in public, it suddenly felt as it the plane was completely full. There was a person in every seat and even others standing in the aisles. In my peripheral view was a stewardess, her eyes boring a hole in my head. Where the fuck did all those people come from? They were all staring at me, their eyes bugged. I looked over at Wendy to find her staring at me too. Sweat popped out in beads on my forehead. I did the only thing I could do. I dropped my face into the Barf Bag and heaved.
The thing that bothers me most about that experience is I cannot for the life of me recall what we did with the used Barf Bags. Did I shove them into the pocket on the seat back in front of me? Did I tuck them into my carry on and carry them off? Did Wendy put them in the trash? Did the stewardess take them away? Are they still in the trunk of my car??
Of course they are not still in the trunk of my car.
That's one place I'm sure they did not end up.
We put my parents on an airplane out of National this morning. They are heading for Alaska to take a cruise. I advised them both to steer clear of airport Bloody Marys. They don't taste nearly as good coming up as they do going down.
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6 comments:
The very first flight we took as a family, I remember my brother puking into one of those little bags. Flying was different back in the 60's. The ride was rough, many people puked - it was just what you did when you flew I guess. I was so repulsed at the idea of puking in a little bag - that I just didn't. To this day I can withstand severe bouts of nauseau without actually vomiting... handy.
When you get through vomiting, I wanted to say nice photo, is that your eye??????
*quietly stops eating her breakfast burrito*
On my honeymoon in the Cook Island (South Pacific), six hours down to departure on to New Zealand and Australia, I got sicker than a fool.
I was glued to the bathroom, couldn't even make it back to bed for the entire six hours.
We didn't know what to do. We couldn't just cancel the flight as we had no place to stay. Resorts were booked.
I went to the airport green as a bean and boarded the flight. I was panicked. What if I was seriously ill? What the hell was I going to do in a plane over an ocean -- stuck for 5 to 8 hours?!
Not that I could get good health care on the island either.
Luckily, when I boarded the plane, I slowly started to feel better.
Later, I found out, I am seriously allergic to mussels and I had eaten them the night before!
I only found out by accidentally eating mussels right before another flight home from Denver. I was again wondering if I was going to make it onboard again!! I finally realized what the pattern was.
Lesson: Don't eat mussels and fly.
Egats!
Can't say that I've ever puked on a plane. I've come close to drawing blood from digging my nails into my partner's hands during takeoff, though, when I'm scared to death.
Anyway, just wanted to say hi. I've spent the past couple of nights reading through your blog, and thoroughly enjoying it. I love the way you write! I literally read here until almost 2am. last night (this morning). My eyes were crossing, and I wanted to read more, but just couldn't. It was like a really good book that you just can't put down. Looking foward to reading more! :)
LOL! I once stepped off a transit bus (very quickly, 'cause I knew what was coming) and puked on the sidewalk. When I looked up, I saw the crowd of construction workers who'd stopped their work to watch me. Not a pretty sight.
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