Trip to Florida: The Flight There

So we left New Year's Day for Florida. We took the very well known airline, USA3000 (or USA3K as we called it). We walked up to the counter to check in and were instantly transported back to a time before computers were invented. Their system for checking people in? A giant list with everyone's name on it. When you checked in, they literally just placed a check mark next to your name. Then they would go over to what was essentially a shoe box that held all the boarding passes which, by the way, had been filled in already-most likely with a typewriter. Even with this highly sophisticated system, they shockingly couldn't find mine or Diane's boarding pass. So the kid who was clearly confused and terrified and maybe a little sickly went and got blank boarding passes and filled them out with a pen. Then came the seat assignments. This part was trickier. The way it worked was they had a bunch of stickers with seat numbers on them. Then they would peel of a sticker and stick it to your boarding pass. Intense stuff, you guys. They weighed our luggage, tied a tag onto it and then made us carry them over to some lady who seemed very disgruntled. She pointed at a place for us to stick our luggage, and as we walked away I said, "We're never seeing our stuff again."

Things improved on the flight where the median age of the passengers, including us, was about 85. Listen-I love old people. I mean couldn't love my grandparents more if they were made completely of chocolate and Salt & Vinegar Pringles. I firmly believe in the saying "Respect Your Elders". But traveling with them makes me want to kill someone: me. We boarded about 45 minutes late then we had to sit on the plane for an hour while they de-iced us. In the middle of de-icing us, the truck ran out of de-icer so we had to wait for another truck to come. Oh did I mention there was a blizzard going on? Well there was. It was effing blizzarding out, I'm already a nervous flyer, my hangover was kicking in and maybe you've noticed but the elderly don't do a great job holding in their, um, flatulence. They're farters, guys. They fart a lot, and I think at their age they either a) don't know they're farting or b) don't give a rat's ass because they're 85 and can do whatever they want (which I'll be honest is a pretty sweet attitude-one that I wholeheartedly support). Unfortunately, we were not 85 and were very aware of our surroundings, and it. was. horrible.

We watched one guy go to 4 different seats thinking each one was his because he seriously had no idea what he was doing. Then he put his bag up in the overhead bin. Five seconds later he put his coat in a different overhead bin. Ten seconds later he put his hat in yet a different overhead bin. Thirty seconds later, as we were trying to leave, he went to the bathroom. Meanwhile I ended up with some ahole kid sitting behind me kicking my seat. I turned to Diane and said, "Okay that's gonna have to stop." She turned around to look at the kid and said, "Yeah that's an 80 year old man." Finally we were taxiing out to the runway, and the old lady behind us said, "Oh are we here?" because she had been sleeping and apparently her cataracts were blocking her view of the fucking blizzard from hell happening outside, and her husband, the kicker, said, "What? We haven't even left yet." Drew, D and I just looked at each other like, 'Holy shit this is going to be a long flight.'

It actually turned out to be an uneventful flight which really is the best kind. Then we landed, and the flight crew decided to let the oldest woman left on the entire planet off the plane first. It took her 10 minutes just to get up out of her seat. Then this conversation happened:

Old Lady: So I can get off the plane now?
Flight Attendant: Yep!
OL: I should get off?
FA: Yes, ma'am! You can deboard.
OL: Should I get off the plane?
FA: Yes. You can go.
Old Lady Behind Me Who Despite Being Really Old Was Still A Generation Younger Than OL: OH MY GOD GET OFF THE PLANE!!

Then someone farted.