Are you a good flier? Take to the friendly skies with a smile and kid-like joy?
Me? Not so much.
I don’t need to be medicated or anything, but I’m a nervous flier. I have a prayer playing on a loop in my head from the time the plane taxis away from the gate to the time the wheels tuck back into their hidey hole under the plane. Then it starts all over again when there’s turbulence and when it’s time to land.
You’d think I’d just take a Xanax and relax a bit, but I prefer to be lucid in preparation of an air disaster.
Last week, I had four flights (are there non-stops flights anymore???), for a total of twelve hours in planes. I was extremely lucky—no problems at all unless you count the little kid behind me kicking my seat on the first leg of my journey. (Side query—do you confront the kicker or just let it be???).
But as I boarded the flight for the last leg of my trip, I was just ready to be home. I’d been up early, drove two hours to the airport in an unfamiliar city, it was late, and whine, whine, whine...
Then something special happened.
A soldier came on board WITH HIS PET MONKEY. Not only that, but they sat right in front of me. The little monkey hopped around, checking out his surroundings, including the man’s head sitting beside the unlikely duo (see pic). The man was such a good sport about it all.
I didn’t get the story of why the soldier had a monkey because I was too busy cooing over the monkey and being a big old geek when the monkey shook my finger. He was adorable in his little diaper and onesie.
The monkey is better than any anxiety medication. And of course, now I want a monkey (not going to happen, but still). Let’s just say that if every flight I was on had a monkey then I’d be one happy flier...