Witz Pickz: In-Flight Entertainment

I'm 30,000 feet in the air, somewhere over Colorado, and I've hit that point in the six hour flight where I slowly regress to age six and want to whine things like, "I'm hungry, I'm antsy, I'm BOOORED!" In other words, Witz Pickz is about to get a whole lot sassier (read: crankier).


(frustrated little Witz)

Lemme put this rhetorical out there and see what you think: WHO. THE FUCK. DOESN'T KNOW THE PLANE RULES BY NOW? It's 2010, nearly a decade since, "no liquids, 3 oz containers, and take your shoes off." Granted, I've had both the need and fortunate circumstances to fly a lot since 2001 and consider myself something of a pro. I know my carry ons fit, I have my ID and boarding pass ready, and by the time I get to the x-ray machine, I have my laptop out, my shoes off, and my belt undone-- which in any other situation will get you a great view of the inside of a cop car. STILL. Doesn't everyone know the protocol by now?



The last time I flew, I saw a guy standing in the security line, working on a Big Gulp, suddenly shout, "Wait, what?! Are you kidding me, I can't bring my drink through security?? Since when??" I wanted to tell him, "Since shut up, sir. Since shut up."

Today, I stood there, hearing my plane being boarded, while the woman in front of me pulled one bottle of liquid after another out of her bag, like some sort of clown car act. Just full bottles of shampoo, conditioner, moisturizer, perfume, hand soap, hair gel, it was hilarious and infuriating at the same time. It was almost made worth it when the security woman turned to me and said, "How the SHIT don't she know 'bout this by now? My Jesus!" well within earshot of the offender, to which I replied, "That's about what I was thinking..." and we shared a laugh, her laugh meaning, "The shit I have to deal with," and my laugh meaning, "See? I'm not a terrorist, please let me through security."



I slept for the first few hours of the flight and am now hungry, antsy, and bored. Fortunately, as I'm flying Virgin America, they serve meals on the plane, right? Kinda. My legitimate options are the NY Pastrami Sandwich or the Japanese Eggplant Sandwich. I've never had pastrami in my life, so it ain't happenin' on an airplane. The eggplant sounds good, but it also sounds like I might be running a Solo 4x4 relay to the bathroom for the remainder of the flight if anything goes awry. There is a tapas plate:

"Start with artisan brie, aged cheddar, and Swiss. Then, dip handcut zucchini, etc, etc, in our roasted tomato and herb hummus. Finish it off with sweet green grapes and dried figs."

First of all, we capitalize Swiss cheese? I didn't realize it had citizenship. I must have skipped out on the "proper vs. common cheeses" day of grammar in third grade. Secondly, I'm ok with the zucchini no matter how it's cut. And why specify? Is that the only part of the meal that's handcut? Are they just mass producing Virgin America Tapas Plates, sending logs of cheese through industrial machinery, and then there are people hand chopping zucchini?

"What's the hold up on those tapas plates? We're running way behind schedule!"
"It's the damn zucchini-- we simply can't handchop it fast enough!"

Finally, how about I eat your nine dollar tapas plate in whatever order I want? It's cheese, veggies, and fruit, not salad, steak, and chocolate mousse. You don't have to walk me through the experience, I get it.

Antsy. Not much you can do about that on a plane. When I'm particularly desperate, sometimes I'll wish I had a baby, because that's the only way it's socially acceptable to walk up and down the plane aisle, obviously lulling the kid to sleep. It's kinda the same as when I wish I smoked cigarettes, so that I could go outside with people or take a break from whatever I'm doing*-- having either one is a bad idea, but they might be nice every now and then.

Bored. I slept for a few hours, I read for a bit, and now I'm writing this. Virgin has in-flight satellite tv, but it turns out that daytime television is just as bad on a plane as it is in a living room. I could rent and watch a movie, but the only one of any interest is Sex and the City 2 so I can write about it here, but that's going to lead to, at the very least, the woman and the girl next to me seeing that I'm watching Sex and the City 2, to which my only defense is saying the words, "I'm only watching it for my blog," out loud.



As I just paused to consider what to do, it occurred to me that I'm hunched over my laptop in a cramped airplane seat, typing furiously and eating the last of the trek mix I brought with me like a squirrel that's positive there's no Winter worth saving for. I definitely look like an insane person. I suppose I'll read some more, or try sleeping, or make up some games to play. The woman behind me has been laughing her ass off and I haven't looked at her yet to try and figure out what she's watching. Given the options, it's a dead heat between Date Night and Death At a Funeral. Or maybe I'll watch House with the woman next to me on her screen and occasionally say too loudly, "That would NEVER happen in real life!" Or maybe I'll snag someone's baby, walk up the aisle, tamper with a bathroom smoke detector, and take a cigarette break. WHAT?? Abducting children and smoking on airplanes is illegal? SINCE WHEN???

So Fly,
Witz


*obviously, I'm referring to times in the past here.

Witz Pickz: Airport Grab Bag

A few airport details to tide you over until tomorrow:

Airport Security:
I was mis-stereotyped at the airport security area, or at least I was judged to be "the sketchy guy" which is a little more fair. While everyone else went through the lines no problem to get to the x-ray area, I apparently got the guy actually doing his job. He took a good long look at me as I walked up and this encounter ensued:

ME: Hi, how are you today?
HIM: ID Please.
ME: Here ya go...
HIM: (staring at it intently, he looks back up at me. I make the "monkey face" which is my go to expression for when I don't expect someone to look at me or for when people look at my ID's. It doesn't make me look more like my photo, but I do think it makes me look stupid and harmless, with nothing to hide. Apparently not.) You get this photo taken pretty recently?
ME: Uh, nope. Like, three years ago.
HIM: Looks pretty recent to me. You look exactly the same.
ME: Thanks? I haven't really changed much since high school-- it's the hair. (I laugh-- he doesn't)
HIM: And where are you going today, Jonathan? (is that supposed to trap me? Am I supposed to say, "Well, first Chicago and then I'm gonna bomb the-- WAIT! You got me! You are GOOD!")
ME: San Jose by way of Los Angeles.
HIM: Hm.
ME: Then to Stanford, where I work and live. (when in doubt, drop the name of a large university)
HIM: Alright. Have a good one. (He then flash lights my ID and bends it. Finally, he hands it back to me and stares at me, just in case I slip up and stick my hands out to be arrested)

I can appreciate the man doing his job, but what type of person is going to mess up under those circumstances? Anyone who's gonna do harm will be prepared, and everyone who will get nervous are just innocent people who aren't good under pressure. Fortunately, after that, they had to scan my bag a few times while everyone else waited, probably because I had a GPS Device at the top of my luggage-- but I also had a bagel with cream cheese, which I assumed would be ok, unless it was C4 Spread. The best part was when the guy asked if I had a laptop in the laptop bag and when I said no, he stared me down like I was a raving lunatic. "But I have cinnamon rolls," I joked, hoping immediately afterwards that there wasn't some new weapon called "Cinnamon Rolls." It's like when I make sure to say Lip GLOSS instead of Lip BALM, even though it makes me sound like I like dudes. Anyway, after I got through security, pretty much everyone stared at me like I was the next big threat, especially this one old lady in a wheelchair who probably had MS or Parkinson's but maintained a terrified blinkless stare at me for the 45 minutes leading up to my flight.

Flight Attendant:
There was this guy on the flight who looked about 90% like Jake Gyllenhaal when he smiled and sounded like him when he talked. "Why isn't that guy acting or selling something, or anything besides flight attending?" I thought as we flew out of LA. After a while he turned to face us and I saw why-- if I were to give him a show on Bravo, it'd be called Queer Eyes On the Flight Guy. The dude's eyes were shockingly close together, and raised up like they were in the middle of a 20 year feud with his nose. If I'd had a laptop, I probably would have IMDB'd Life Goes On just to see if the kid who played Corky had a brother. So I guess what I'm saying is that it must be tougher than it looks to be Jake Gyllenhaal. Genetic Probability-wise anyway.

New Kids On the Block:
While I was on the flight making that "Queer Eyes" joke in my head, I wondered what happened to the actual show Queer Eye For the Straight Guy. Did people just get over it and let it fade into oblivion? Did the cast have irreconcilable differences? Was the Red Sox episode the pinnacle of enjoyment? That led me to thinking about other things like WHY THE HELL IS NEW KIDS ON THE BLOCK BACK?? Not only are they realllly old now, but their brand of music isn't even popular anymore. They should have made a comeback during the Backstreet Boys years (I know, I know, they're coming out with a new CD too...), not now! It seems like a flagrant gimmick, but it'll probably work.

Open Middle Seat:
Either because of the terrorist looking thing or casual luck, I was one of maybe two people with a middle seat open next to them on one long leg of a flight. Which was cool. Only, the weirdest thing happened. This guy sitting across the aisle and back one row says in our general direction, far too loudly to not be on purpose, "Looks like SOMEBODY got lucky!" I turn to look at him and he's glaring at us like we had something to do with it. Now, admittedly, I have my tricks-- I don't make eye contact, I try and frown out the window as if I'm not long for this world, and 9 times out of 10 I'm sick and make sure people know it. BUT, this time, I was just sitting there reading my book and waiting for the inevitable. It was supposed to be a completely full flight. The next thing I know, we're rolling back from the gate and some guy across the way is calling me out. I'm pretty sure the correct response would have been to slide out and punch him right in the face, tell him never to speak to me again, and make him buy me an in flight adult beverage, but instead, I just gave him the "monkey face" and stretched out into my super comfortable seat and a half.

Hair Today, Guantanamo Tomorrow,
Witz