waves of sound

I hate airplanes.

It seems as though everything I want to do on a flight is forbidden on an airplane: like smuggling knives, gargling with mouth wash and clipping my toe nails. Thanks a lot Bin Laden.

Even listening to my iPod is prohibited during take off and landing, the two scariest moments where all I want to do is blast death metal and violently convulse in my seat, waiting to see if the kid behind me dares to place a toe on my back again.

Except this time I was asleep during landing: leave it to me to sleep through flashing lights, a loud intercom, and gravity induced turbulence. My music was still blaring into my ears as I shifted, trying my best to escape the pattern of discomfort I was all too familiar with when sleeping in tight spaces; a cramped neck on one side from leaning towards the window, a numb arm from the lack of blood flow, and a ruptured kidney from the airline food.

To my left was my acquaintance, a chubby Caucasian woman reading all of James Patterson‘s works while eating a granola bar, just as I had left her when I fell into Dreamland. Seeing her choice in literature, already I was not a fan. My eyes shifted then to the stewardess coming down the isle, her eyes fixed on my headphones.

“Maam, we’re getting ready to land.”

Maam? This woman is a good six years older than me. I think “your highness” would have been more appropriate. But since this bow legged heathen was clearly unaware of my greatness I would have settled for “miss.”

“Please turn off your device as it may interfere with the plane’s trajectory. Thank you.”

I’m not a fan of having orders barked at me, even politely. Naturally my first thoughts included such snide comments as “please turn off your ugly” and “my fist is going to interfere with your face’s trajectory.” However instead I politely nodded and removed my headphones, all the while letting my first generation iPod take its damn time shutting down.

The chubby woman sitting next to me decided to use this as an opportunity to glare at me for not making my device shut down faster and make some snide comments of her own.

“You’re so stupid, don’t you know that sound waves could bring the plane down?”

Yes, ladies and gentlemen. Sound waves.

I’m pretty sure if sound waves were capable of that, planes wouldn’t even exist, and this particular craft would have gone down in a fiery rage the second she parted those chapped lips of hers. If she hadn’t insulted me I would have simply ignored her, but I’m out of practice with the whole “turning the other cheek” thing.

“Can you really sit there and call me ignorant when you just said that sound waves bring down planes? If you’re so scared of that then you should kindly shut the fuck up. They’re scared about devices that may create an electro-magnetic pulse, which mine is quite incapable of. Don’t worry, you’ll make it back to your candy stash safe and sound.”

Once landed she scurried to grab her things, cursing me under her breath and wobbling her way towards the front of the plane. I took my god damn time. All I had was a back pack full of fresh underwear, some cigarettes, and my math homework. I wasn’t in a rush.

Note to self: falling asleep in cabs with your leather heels out the window is highly recommended.