Let's be a commercial airline flight!

I'm the 60 yo woman who is refusing to wear her mask and yelling about her rights to the flight attendant.

OP obviously hasn't flown lately.

There are no inflight magazines in the seatback pocket now.

I have not, r2. Last time I flew was Jan. 2020.

I'm the tiny bag of dry pretzels or dry cookies that they serve the peasants in economy class.

I’m the person who bought a Basic Economy transcon ticket for $29. I don’t understand why I can’t bring my 3 carry-on bags on board but am more flabbergasted when I’m not allowed to board with the first group.

I’m the burnt out salesman who has been flying for 40 years and give my FF miles to the grandkids because every flight is torture. I’m the only one on the plane other than the pilots and that swishy steward wearing a necktie. I’m in the premium economy section because even though I could upgrade, free booze is too much of a temptation. A year ago back when they still had meals in First, they were out of everything but the kale and quinoa bowl. The stew brought me a buy on board sandwich from coach. If I close this deal, with God as my witness I will never fly again.

Guess who I am!

I’m the swishy steward on R6’s flight. I swear that dad sack in 11C was the blank Grindr profile that was 82 feet away when we were at the gate. His necktie is fabulous however. Some of the senior gals who work the HNL flights tell me there was a time all the men dressed like that. I know his type, throws a fit when all we have left for FC meals are those crappy kale and quinoa bowls. Wonder what he pays a rent boy to come and let him suck them off at the Hyatt.

I'm the unaccompanied minor flying cross-country to spend the month of July with my dad. My parents have been divorced since I was six and I began making this transcontinental flight the summer that I turned eight. I'm thirteen now. Dad has a new wife and a new son. His new wife doesn't like me very much. She tries to hide it, but I can feel her coldness on the edge of everything she says to me. She'll pick me up at the airport -- Dad is working late -- and she'll awkwardly ask me about school. She'll tell me she bought my favorite cereal in anticipation of my visit. "Cinnamon Toast Crunch?" I'll ask eagerly. "Cheerios," she'll reply. "I could have sworn ..."

Every year I dread this visit more and more. It is worse this year, thought, because I don't want to leave Mom alone for a whole month. Her new boyfriend, Kyle, drinks too much. Now she's drinking a lot too. They drink and argue and he yells and it scares me. Once I think he hit her. But maybe not. Cause if he hit her I'd fucking kill him. I will worry about her the whole time I'm gone.

Sometimes I sneak beers from the fridge in the basement. Coors Light, the kind that Kyle drinks. Mom never bought Coors before.

My life is lonely and sad.

I'm the pajama pants and flip flops. The flip flops will be removed as soon as possible.

I’m the kale and quinoa bowl that nobody wants. The upgrades who can’t preorder the lamb ravioli or braised short rib with polenta get stuck with me. The airline put me on the menu to appeal to the younger demographic that flies Mint in JetBlue. I also cost the airline less than a coach meal cost 25 years ago. I’m actually pretty tasty if people would just give me a chance. Now I know how the fat kids felt in gym class. PIck me! Pick me!

I’m the high priced matchmaking service for successful singles that used to be advertised in the complimentary copy of the inflight magazine. All of the few marriages that actually resulted in our service have ended in acrimony. R9 is atypical for their kids as he is not “on the spectrum”. He sure is on the bottle though as he filched a bottle of Bombay off of the drink cart.

I’m the farts in the cushions, silent simply because the jet engines muffle my sounds.

I’m the surgical mask worn by the Southwest passenger years before COVID. I was remarkably effective in keeping the adjoining seats empty. That was my only purpose. The passenger was in perfect health.

I’m the emergency exit seats. In the unlikely event of a real emergency with time to spare, all the people who paid extra money to enjoy my luscious extra leg space who are not young bilingual able-bodied males will be asked to give me up to allow for young hotties to be the designated heroes.

I am the loose pill you find in the seat back and you have been staring at it all flight long wondering what it is and if you should take it just to see what happens.

I do that with all pills everywhere, r16. No need tfor it to be an inflight one.

It’s R9’s Adderall.

I'm the former President, missing AF1.

I'm the twenty minute ride to the runway and thirty minute wait in line at take off.

I am the pocket-sized lavatory in the back of the plane that is small, but big enough for a DL reader to use to snap selfies of himself with his honking big dick to post on A4A.

I’m the medical emergency diversion caused by a morbidly obese passenger collapsing from the strain of trying to use to tiny toilet. None of the passengers knew Kearney, Nebraska even existed, yet alone had an airport. An enraged frau will shriek “you ruined our vacation you fat fuck” as the EMTs extricate him from the lav. Little does she know that the plane will be unable to take off due to a mechanical issue and she will spend the next 11 hours in an airport that serves 3 flights a day.

I’m the uncomfortable turbulence, strange mechanical noises midflight, and no acknowledgment from the cockpit.

I’m the extra liquor kits and seat belt extensions on board every flight to Las Vegas.

I needed some good laughs today.

You bitches never disappoint!

I'm the bitchy male flight attendant.

I'm the headrest that everybody hates when I recline.

I'm the suicidal goose over La Guardia, eyeing your left wing engine.

I'm the teenage girl toting her own pillow from home as one of her carryon items.

I'm your missing Nikon, now in the possession of a part-time baggage-handler at Newark.

I'm the handsome flight attendant who was also Malec on corbinfisher. Beautiful. Paris -> Miami.

I'm r9's seatmate. I worked as a sixth grade teacher for a number of years and I can tell when something's not quite right with a boy his age. As we were taxiing, he asked me where I was headed. It was a pretext to talk about himself, I could tell.

"Hawaii," I replied brusquely before pulling my neck pillow out of my bag and leaning my head away from him, toward the aisle.

Damn it, my vacation started at 9:00 AM yesterday morning and I'm in no mood.

I'm the cruel carny mistreating all the Vietnamese pigs, miniature horses, rabbits, chickens, monkeys, turkeys, and peacocks no longer allowed as emotional support animals.

I'm the nauseating smell of greasy airport food that many passengers have brought onto the plane to eat during the flight.

I am DISGUSTED.

I am the obese person trying to fit my way down the aisle. I have to aggressively grab every seat rest on the way down, no matter if someone's head is in the way.

Im the 5"3 112 lb women in the middle seat squished between to fatties with so much lard it's hanging over in my seat, not to mention the two armrests I cant use...the bathroom, forget it

I am the delicious Biscoff cookies you get when you fly on Delta...

I'm a straight male flight attendant. You'll probably see a unicorn before you see me.

i'm the used mask and nasty snot rag in the back of the seat pocket. The cleaning crew missed me.

[quote] A year ago back when they still had meals in First,

Wait, they don’t have meals in first anymore?

I'm the Oriental that brought their smelly dinner on in Tupperware and now the entire plane smells like squid and fish.

Stewardess, my blanket has this large, white, crusty spot on it.

I’m your dignity, which you were forced to leave behind at security.

I'm the sudden power back after departing Midway airport in order to thread O'Hare's crossing traffic. I create gasps of surprise

I'm the movie you want to watch instead of what you get, which is usually something like this:

I'm the obese man who entered the lavatory 20 minutes ago and you convince yourself maybe he was just peeing.

I'm the guy sitting next to you who smells like he hasn't showered in a couple of months.

Is it better if I fly premium or first?

R49 most business or first in the states is really bad unless you get an international plane from a major airport. When I fly la to NYC first it is just okay. I flew Phoenix to Chicago on the Dreamliner and got a fully reclining bed pod.

Gross; it sounds like 2nd class Paris to Nice sleeper on SNCF in the old days (1980s). Sweat and tobacco.

Sorry R43.

Are UMs still allowed?

I'm your mother, worried sick. And it's not because you'll be away for my birthday. Maybe I'll have a few more, I should live so long. Aeroplanes, I just... Does God really want man to fly? I don't know; He doesn't talk with me anymore. He puts my only son into a tin can with wings and ignores me. If your father were here, I'd be even more miserable. Okay, God listened once. No, you go, have fun, enjoy. Don't think about sending a postcard, you'll be busy.

I'm all the people who stand up right after the plane stops, even though it takes at least 15 minutes to open the doors and start letting people out, and they all continue standing while dozens of rows in front of them get their stuff out of the overhead bins and file out before them.

I'm the classic movie you watch on streaming to take your mind off the turbulence (I actually did do this with Singin' in the Rain once).

I'm the guy who's taking a leisurely 15-minute dump in the lavatory when there's a line waiting to use it. I understand none of us can control when nature calls but FFS you're not at home, hurry up in there!

I'm the twink flight attendant who has a mile-high tryst with a gay porn star in the cramped lavatory. I'm fired upon landing and blacklisted from every airline after an onlyfans video showing my full airline ID makes the rounds on twitter.

I'm Tamela from Coffeyville, Kansas. I'm 57 and this is the first time I've been onboard an aircraft. In the past my husband Earl and I either drove or took a Greyhound to visit my husband's family in Brownsville. My own family lives outside Oklahoma City, but they never liked Earl, and over the years we visited less and less. When Mom died a few years back, I hadn't seen her in person since 2009. At my sister's house after the services, I heard her tell our cousin, Donna, "Earl's always been a piece of shit. There was a reason Mom hated him." She didn't think I could hear her.

Today I'm flying down to Brownsville for the funeral of Earl's brother, Harvey. Earl drove down last week, when Harvey entered hospice. He died of complications stemming from cirrhosis of the liver. The end came quick.

I held up the lines at the ticket counter, TSA, the gate, and even the terminal pizza eatery because I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing when I'm inside an airport.

I’m the passenger of one of the coach front rows who managed to sneak in and board before it was my group’s turn because I have a young child with a stroller. Now I’m taking my goddamn time putting away said stroller plus my five other carry-ons, all baby-related, while a long line of back-row boarders patiently wait to be able to get through. I will inevitably remember some stupid baby item that I have stashed away in one of the overhead bags (God forbid it was in the one under my seat) so I will stand up and once again hold up the line while I dig and search in three places. The business traveler sitting next to me and my precious snowflake is ready to murder me and commit suicide.

I am the leg room for the 6'3 passenger.

In our defense, passenger was buying the cheapest flights for years and is surprised that he gets so little for so little money.

Why blame the consumer and not the seller? Typical dL idiocy.

I'm onboard electronic Yahtzee. Halfway thru the flight AI algorithms will have anticipated all your moves and you will never win another game remainder of the flight

I'm r62. I hold up the flight's departure by at least ten minutes arguing with the flight attendant about the size of my carry-on.

It's eventually gate-checked, and you better believe I'm NEVER flying American again!

I'm the dumbass that can't stop vaping for 2 hours so I will vape happily in the bathroom, unless R47 or R57 are in there, then I'll just wait til the FA passes us and suck on it right in the cabin.

I’m the fat white frau arguing with the flight attendant about wearing a mask one year into a pandemic. I’m gonna regret the viral video that leaks out later.

I’m “doors to manual”!

I am the tiny, brittle 70-something lady who does not allow old age to prevent her still seeing new places. Just because I need an oxygen tank doesn't mean I shouldn't see Tuscany.

I'm every shitty network sitcom struggling to stave off looming cancellation being included into the TV>Comedy section of the in-flight entertainment.

I'm the younger guy sitting between R1 and R59. I really just want to read my book and listen to Beethoven on my headphones. Both headphones are in and my book is wide open but THEY KEEP ON TALKING....

The flight attendants feel bad for me.

I'm the 46 year old blonde flight attendant that has given up on happiness. My husband ran away with a 16 year old girl and I had to move back in with my 70 year old dad, who had to get a job at Best Buy.

I don't give a fuck about your "condition" or your kids. Don't talk to me.

I'm the attractive young woman praying on the way to my seat that my neighbor won't be yet another middle-aged man who wants to spend the hours-long flight talking to me.

Je suis le Sac Vomitoire!

I'm the rare crash that happens. Fuck am I depressing.

I am a guy in my 30s who sees a hot guy in his 20s going to the toilet. The toilet is small the plane nearly empty. I am horny put my shoes on walk to the toilet door knock it. He opens and not just the door. I was right he had tight beautiful hole and he was horny. We have time for another round.

I'm the pre-board groups.

All of the older people have difficulty walking.

The families don't have infants - all the kids are walking on their own. They are just using it as an excuse to get on early and get the overhead space. Nobody says a word.

The military pre-boards are primarily administrative personnel. 95% of them have never been in any danger in all of their military lives.

I'm Sister Ruth. Would you take better care of yourself? Oh look, there's a lighthouse outside the window!

I'm the on-board Wi-Fi. Even though you paid $20 for the entire flight, I'm not available until 20 minutes into the flight, I cut out randomly for 10-15 mins throughout the flight and force re log-ins, and then I cutoff down 30 minutes before landing.

Be grateful bitch - I'm the only option you've got.

I'm the hicks that have never been on an airplane. I clap and cheer when the plane lands even though it's a smooth, uneventful flight!

We’re British tourists on a package deal to Spain. Our charter flight was delayed 4 hours and we all got falling down drunk at the airport. 17 of us will begin our trip in a Spanish jail for a variety of offenses.

R79 - and they recline their seat all the way back, keep the window shades open to blind the rest of the cabin during the whole flight, and have loud conversations with their companions - oblivious that their loud volume of conversation can be heard above people's headphones for 6 rows in front and behind them.

I despise these rubes.

I’m the guy who boards late with a carry-on, finds the overhead bins above his seat are full, and then tries to move someone else’s carry-on somewhere further back down the cabin to make room for his own.

I'm the nasty motherfuckers in flip-flops who walked through security barefoot and slide them off my feet once I get to my seat.

I refuse to give up my beach-vibe vacation attire even though I'm flying back to New York in January. I'm still wearing my shorts too!

I'm the businessman on a flight to Orlando. This is going to be hell.

We're the hot young things in flip flops and shorts laughing and rolling our eyes at the ancient old queen with the permanent scowl on his face.

I'm the only person here who is fluent in African-American Vernacular English.

Hi everyone I’m Madysyn! I’m six years old, on the spectrum and going on my first flight to Orlando to see Gran-gran and pop-pop. Mommy woke up late this morning and we almost missed the flight because mommy wouldn’t let me wear my Elsa dress for the flight. I had a fit. When we got to the airport to go through TSA I did NOT want to take my shoes off. I had a fit. When the plane took off the pressure was took much for my ears and hurt. I had a fit. There are two men sitting in front of mommy and me who are holding hands. I guess they’re really good friends. One of the men was very mean and turned around and yelled at mommy and told her to “Shut up your crotch dropping, cunt!” I proceeded to kick his seat all the way to Orlando. Soon after the plane took off, mommy took one of her adult Skittles and is sound asleep.

What a fun trip!

I’m the first class passenger seated before you are, who never looks up from my tablet, and speaks to no one for any reason except to the one attendant serving me drinks. I’m the first on and off the plane. I never see you. You don’t exist. If little Madsyn above is anywhere on the plane my sound canceling ear plugs go right in.

I actually am that person. Who are you, really?

I'm the bitchy DLers in r87's post!

I'm the peanuts we're no longer allowed to enjoy on flights because of all these little fuckers and their peanut allergies!!!!

I’m the pre-departure glass of champagne in business class. The envy and snide remarks of economy passengers as they file past on their way to seat 39E make me taste even better.

I’m the burnt out salesman in R6 again. That’s me on the right in 1979. As the top salesman in the first half, I got to fly in first for the rest of the year. I’m enjoying a Bloody Mary in American’s 10 am ORD-LAX flight. My meal will be steak and eggs. Now you know why I’m so bitter about flying these days.

I'm the fucked up boarding process used by some airlines. Why not have the people in back board first with the people in front boarding last? It's not rocket science.

I’m the envious passenger in seat 39 E.

I'm Midwest Express. I tried to do full service flights during the 2000s and went bankrupt.

But this fat whore enjoyed those fresh-from-the-oven chocolate chip cookies!

I’m the Premium Platinum Preferred Plus Gold Star Silver Medallion One Pass Altitude Advantage Executive Elite Rewards Club Frequent Flyer Program membership bullshit that allows you to board ahead of the steerage passengers.

We're the miserable old hags who are flight attendants. We're going to be total bitter bitches to you for the next few hours. All the hot young women with cheerful personalities who used to do this job are on Instagram now.

R95 - you made a tear run down my cheek. Midwest Express was the only full business class airline. There was no coach - everyone had a comfortable large leather seat with ample leg room and had full dinner service with real plates, wine glasses and utensils (like a domestic first class meal). It was a good meal - and freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. That was the best airline ever. Sure it was a bit more than other airlines, but it was worth it.

R93 - since they're charging for checked bags, it's all about the overhead space. And also to be able to sit and not stand in line for 20 minutes while boarding is seen as a perk. For first class, there is usually cocktail service before the plane leaves, so they have to get the asses in those seats first in order to finish service before take off.

And what was I, r98, chopped liver? Like the pâté we served?

I read this as “Let’s be a commercial airline fight.”

What on Earth is going on in R92's pic?

Champagne Brunch. AA 747s and DC-10s had tables for for in the center section of seats. Continental on their DC-10s and TWA on their L1011s. Here’s the cheese course on a JFK-LAX flight.

TWA tables for four

I'm Executive Platinum with 3.5 million miles flown. The FA's know me. When they see me at the end of the jetway they just smile, nod towards the front of the plane and murmur something like, "But you knew that."

I only fly private. I feel sorry for people like r104

I only fly private. I feel huge compassion for [R104].

I'm Vicki Barr.

What do you mean, no more caviar?

I’m the ashtray on the lavatory door. It’s illegal to use me, but I am required by law to be here, lest any wayward smoker tosses a lot butt into the trash, setting the pane on fire.

I'm the lady who has been flying since the age of three. Nothing about flying bothers me. When the turbulence gets rough, and everyone is looking terrified, I am calmly reading a book, or working on my laptop. If anyone tries to talk to me, I cut them cold. I miss the meal cart, and it doesn't bother me. I ring for an FA to get me a Diet Coke.

When I reach my foreign destination, I do not have problems with customs. I get outside and hail a cab. Though everyone whispers about how dangerous this is, nothing happens to me. When I get to the hotel, I won't complain about the room, no matter how bad.

I'm very low maintenance.

I'm the baby and I swear to Christ I will never stop crying. Ever. Why am I here? Who knows?

I'm the queen fag flight attendant out to get all gorgeous women thrown off my flight

I don't care, I'll use any excuse. Anything!

~United Airlines Québec City to Newark, NJ (for godssakes)

-Steven (I wish I was born a woman)Slater

They didn't smell great either

I'm the middle aged guy in row 14. The first class bathroom isn't occupied - I'm just going to use it. I don't care if the seatbelt sign is on or if the flight attendant is doing service in first class.

No, I didn't check if the two toilets in back were occupied - this one looks closer. No, I don't why there is a curtain up there - but I can swing it pass relatively easily.

Oh - looks like somebody in first class went in there - I'll just hang around the first class flight attendant gallery so as to not lose my turn in line. What's the problem?

While I'm up here, I may as well ask for a drink.

I'm the stew who won't look you straight in the eye.

I’m the middle class white gay man making $70,000 a year thinking I’m superior over the other trash humans on my flight. I pick apart and judge everyone, including the fat frau with the gigantic ass stuffed in yoga pants to the white trash redneck with a bag of greasy fast food and a gallon of sugar soda in tow. I fantasize about flying private or semi-private next time I travel. I want be of them to have a cardiac arrest and die mid-flight for my entertainment.

How would 70k set you above the rest? Hell, that gets you a stimulus check

r117 fwiw, I had r116 blocked from another thread

I'm cruising altitude. I grant you the safety to move about the cabin.

I’m the screaming lady mouth stock footage that appears in half of the Air Crash Investigation documentaries. I’m only second in frequency to the narrator’s description of practically any airport as “one of the busiest in the world.”

I'm the passenger with the enlarged prostate arguing with the flight attendant about accessing the bathroom after the "fasten seatbelt" sign has been turned on in anticipation of landing.

I'm the person over 6 ft tall and I am having trouble sitting in the fucking coach seat. I stumble over arm rests and other short passengers laugh.

I’m a European traveler horrified by the ice in the orange juice.

I am the piece of mini-RCA headphones that broke off in the audio receptacle. No audio for you, you cheap ass idiot who forgot to download stuff to watch on your iPad.

I'm the seat. I'm in the full upright and locked position in preparation for takeoff.

I'm the power outlet supposedly just under your seat. No one can find me on their first attempt - tee hee. I could be identified with a color strip of some kind, but I prefer to meld in with everything else.

Oh - and don't expect me on every flight. I will randomly disappear on both short and long haul flights. I don't give a shit. Hope you powered up in the airport!!

I am r126's brother, the USB outlet. I am right there for everybody to see. But I don't do much. Need me for charging? Go and try me. You can plug in your cell phone while listening to your music. The cell phone battery will still deplete faster than I can charge it.

R12 - you rang?

We specialize in busy professionals like yourself. It's just lunch! You know - the 90 minute out of office lunch that basically disappeared in the 90's?

Our female roster includes 1000's of Eastern European women with dubious degrees and less than proficient English. Our male roster includes tens of divorced, overweight, middle-managers who believe they deserve better.

No, we don't keep track of success metrics, why do you ask?

I'm the multi-page ad for America's Top Doctors in the in-flight magazine.

I almost never feature a female doctor.

I'm the Iranian cruise missile.

I'm the mindboggling NINE different boarding groups on American Airlines, and that doesn't count preboarders with crotchfruit or "ConciergeKey Elite AAdvantage Members."

If you paid for a first-class ticket, you're actually in the third boarding group, even though it's called Group 1.

Or you could purchase "priority boarding" in Group 4, which is actually the sixth group to board.

I make no fucking sense whatsoever and encourage "gate lice" — people blocking the boarding area so they can be first when Group 7 or whatever is finally called.

Oh, r119. When I'M on board, EVERY altitude is cruising altitude!

I'm Long Island, over which you've been circling for an hour. Hey, at least it's night-time, so the lights look pretty!

R131 - to be honest, there aren't ever any Concierge Key people - although I did see one once. A friend of mine got that status - it's an insane amount of ass licking, but you basically have to live at the airport to get it. Not really a great trade-off.

I'm your aircraft, a McDonnell Douglas MD-80 built when Bush Sr. was in office.

I'm noisy, don't have screens or anything, and my Wi-Fi doesn't work. My in-seat headphone jack isn't connected to anything.

Oh, and forget meditating among the clouds on your flight because you've got a "window" seat next to a windowless cabin side panel in the very back right next to my noisy engines.

Next week I'm flying out to the Mojave desert to await my fate as beer cans or flying for a Tanzanian charter airline.

I'm the cramped, claustrophobic feeling you get, like a sardine in a can when you're on a plane. And you're only 5'8". How the fuck can people taller than you even move around in this fucking thing?

It might make sense to rename this thread to “Let’s be a USA commercial airline flight”.

The rest of the aviation world hasn’t been in a race to the bottom the way that you lot have been.

I'm r137.

You do not want me as your seatmate, trust me.

I’m the 29 inch seat pitch on Ryanair, R137

I'm the distinct smell of the cabin.

I’m American Airlines new “domestic business class”. My seat pitch sucks, I’m uncomfortable to sit in and there are no TVs in the seat backs. There’s also no decent food or service.

I'm yoga pants. You can most often find me on overweight women who couldn't find a yoga studio if their lives depended on it. My seams may be screaming for mercy, but I'm most often paired with a short top so that all the passengers can be treated to the sight of the camel toe I create. Enjoy!

I am the woman who has 3 overpacked carry-ons, one which will hit the head of every passenger on the way to my seat, as it's slung over my shoulder, then double-slap the face of the passenger who sits opposite of me, as I try to stuff my carry-ons in the already stuffed overhead bin.

Or I can be the "world traveler" with the overstuffed backpack doing the same thing.

I'm the sucker who got seated next to a "service dog" that just crapped on the floor.

I'm the crazy Filipino bitch flight attendant who just screamed at you in front of everyone because you turned on the "help needed" sign during her safety demonstration.

I'm the gay flight attendant who is proudly femme whose arse wiggles when he walks down the aisle.

I'm the COVID virus floating through the air waiting to git ya.

I’m the smell of feet from the fat man in the next row who’s wearing rubber slides and dirty socks. I’ll be in your nostrils rent-free for a day after you’re off the plane.

I'm "Your trash"

I'm the foot fetishist sitting two seats away from r148 and hiding my boner under a blanket.

I am the massive eye-rolling from more seasoned travelers as R59 and Earl, who have been given one-time TSA Pre status hold up the line as they attempt to take off their shoes, remove things from their suitcases and stare blankly at the Black TSA workers who are telling them to leave their shoes on and then talking about them as if they are not there

I am the roulette wheel that is the price of WiFi on the flight.

Sometimes I am just one $45 flat fee for the full five hours

Sometimes I am $9.99 per hour per device

And everything in between.

The only thing you can be sure of is that I will cut out a half dozen times during the flight, invariably as an important email is being sent.

Your forgot to add "And even when you can find me, there's a 50/50 chance I'll actually be working" R126

I'm the person who booked a first class flight on United from Orland to La Guardia. After paying all that extra not to sit by the fatties, and to get treated a little bit more humanly, Im pissed because yeah we get drinks but no food...only shitty little bags of almonds and other tiny packets of snacks...what a rip off

I'm me, on a Southwest flight (not because I wanted to, it was the only option). I pay the extra for the A boarding group and take an aisle seat. I bring a giant book to read so that people will keep walking by and won't sit in the middle seat. I breathe a sigh of relief as nobody takes the middle seat and say to the person in the window seat "we sure dodged a bullet". Then we sit there for 10 more minutes and here she comes, a 300 pounder with flip flops and carrying a burrito and several carry-ons. She needs to take the only open seat on the plane, the middle seat next to me. GODDAMNIT!

I'm the really fat person walking down the aisle holding his ticket out in front of him.

Everyone breathes a massive sigh of relief when I pass their row.

You can feel the psychic energy willing them to move forward.

I am the massive sigh of relief when the person in the middle seat shows up and she's a small skinny woman who is not wearing strong perfume.

I am the Karen sitting in the first row of steerage.

I keep trying to get past the curtain and sneak into the first class bathroom which is directly on the other side of the curtain. I've made it once and now I'm going to keep it up no matter how many times the FAs warn me.

I want to speak to the head flight attendant.

I’m me, heading to the extra legroom seat I booked and paid extra for, only to find some frau already sitting in it. “Oh, you can have my seat!” she trills. “I want to sit with my friend here!”

I'm the hottest guy on the flight. You'll see me boarding from your seat. From the point the flight attendant greets me at the cockpit, you habe been eye fucking me. You'll hope I am the one taking the vacant seat next to you. I will pass your row without even seeing you while moving on to my seat way in the back.

[quote]I’m American Airlines new “domestic business class”. My seat pitch sucks, I’m uncomfortable to sit in and there are no TVs in the seat backs. There’s also no decent food or service.

It sound like it's perfectly suitable for domestics.

I'm the beverage cart blocking the path from the lavatory to your seat.

I'm a woman, trying to pee, while doing the flying squat, and trying not to touch the walls, or any surfaces, for that matter- not as easy as you think.

I'm the frau who was in 35B. My fat created a seal over the toilet, which gave me a hysterectomy when I flushed.

[quote] I'm a woman, trying to pee, while doing the flying squat, and trying not to touch the walls, or any surfaces, for that matter- not as easy as you think.

I am a man, and I don’t give a shit, so I’ll just sit down and take a shit.

I'm Carolyn Hopkins.

I'm the scrunchie in the hair of the 55-year-old flight attendant who ceased giving even the remotest of fucks 15 years ago. My seniority has me on the best routes, and firing me would create an age-discrimination lawsuit. After the plane lands and junior flight attendants have put on gloves to pick up all the floor mess you pigs have left behind, I just stand in the front row, eyes fixed blankly on the back of the plane.

I'm the fairly hot guy sitting next to you, who doesn't mind sharing an armrest. I'm secretly enjoying the contact of our forearms, and wondering why I enjoy it. After a while I even allow our knees to rest against each other. Nothing will ever come from this, and nothing about it is spoken. But, for 3 hours, both of this are quietly enjoying this tiny bit of comfort.

I'm the Scruff app that belongs to a sorghum farmer in Rhinelander, Wisconsin. Hot Bears always appear as Nearby, but then they just disappear.

I'm R68's hard-on, which he is desperately trying to keep covered with his tray table.

I meant r168!!

Enjoy your one-way fantasy, r168

I'm the hot guy in tight pants that leave nothing to the imagination, who is sitting next to you. You are mesmerized by his HUGE DICK. You try not to be obvious when you glance at it. You will go and rub one out in the lavatory before the plane lands.

r170 r68's hard-on is funnier!

I'm the flight attendant announcing over the PA system that vaping is prohibited anywhere aboard the aircraft.

I'm the ding whenever the seatbelt sign turns off or on.

I'm the super chatty 48-year old dental hygienist from Columbus sitting next to you, telling you way too much about my piece of shit boyfriend (soon to be ex boyfriend!), my disrespectful daughter, and my feelings for the new hot dentist in my office (milf joke incoming), because I know I'll never see you again, plus I had a few gin and tonics before the flight, so I'm "loose." You sort of get a kick out of me at first, but can't fully take to it, because you have no idea how long it's going to go on. Eventually you put on your noise canceling headphones (I can take a hint) and I shut up for a bit before turning to the elderly woman sitting by window who made the mistake of asking me a question which I use as opportunity to unload on her.

I HATE people you don't know telling you their whole life story. HATE it.

I'm r178, and I have stated my boundaries!

I'm r179 and I want to bore strangers with the details of my stupid life.

I’m the “48 hours in...” article in the airline magazine, featuring some city they just started flying to. I recommend that you explore the burgeoning art scene in the city’s newly redeveloped industrial zone, sip a cocktail at a downtown rooftop hotel bar and then sway to the latest beats at some awful straight club.

I'm just your garden variety passenger, who is low-key panicked that people can eat and drink not only in the seated terminal waiting area, but ON THE PLANE during this whole pandemic.

I'm the two hot pilots you see in the terminal with tight pants chatting. All the while I'm wondering if they are fuck buddies...

I'm your complimentary beverage. I'm 1/4 ginger ale and 3/4 ice.

Jigablue, 'twas you,non?

I really did love you & then you went and scat trolled all over it You miserable freak, you

I'm the passenger detained for assaulting a flight attendant.

I'm becoming more and more common.

In the past 18 months, in-flight magazines were discontinued as viral transmission vectors.

I am the hoards of white trash that are on my plane. Who the F told them they were allowed to pollute the golden skies

I'm the evil genius who is paid handsomely to come up with more and more ways to squeeze more passengers into a plane. Sometimes I find ways to develop skinnier padding for back rests without anybody noticing. Sometimes I just recommend to move seats closer together. I provide awesome customer service to the airline that purchases our planes. Mind you: I get paid to increase the number of passengers per flight. I am not getting paid to keep them happy. Happiness is handled by the airline. The airline employee responsible for passengers' comfort got that tiny desk in the broom closet in the basement. Nobody's ever seen her.

I am the documentary on that deadly plane crash you watched 2 weeks before the flight that you are trying not to think about.

I’m the captain’s announcement of “Flight attendants: Doors to arrival. Cross-check and all call.”

I'm the two colleagues, men 6'2" and 6'3" Animatedly they reapeat their heights again and again and a-fucking-again hoping to catch the ear of a flight attendant who will ask them to sit the emergency exit seats. The flight attendant hears this shit every flight in every working day of his or her life.

"I'm 6'3" and played football, these seats weren't made for me!"

"I'm 6'2" but big [fat] and I can't fit in here either!"

They work together. They fly together. They have their routine down because they use it 6-12 imes a month, often enough on the same flight attendants. Barring attention from the official representatives of the plane, they start speaking a bit loud, hoping to wear down some nearby passenger in that emergency exit seat, only all of those passengers paid an extra $35 for those express seats and are unimpressed by these faded high school footballers. Eventually a flight attendant notes that all the emergency exit seats were sold in advance at a premium; he or she can offer two seats at the back of First for $140 each..

The foootballers sit down and grumble. "Unless you ask, the answer is always no," one of them will say.

^ Never met these guys on flights. But will try what they do next time I fly.

I’m the pretentious twat who is wearing a vintage suit and tie as if I were an extra on Mad Men. My only carry on piece is a vintage flight bag I bought on eBay. I think I’m oh so sophisticated and that this is a great way to make my self alluring to the cute twink flight attendants. In reality I look like such a whack job that I was flagged for extra screening by TSA and the FAs are all laughing at me in the rear galley.

I’m the covered trays in first class because we’re too lazy to plate things anymore. I come all at once, starter, main and dessert. It’s “for your safety”.

I’m the gravelly somewhat southern drawl that all US pilots make announcements in, even though they rarely sound like this at other times.

I am the seasoned flight attendant who maintains that her job is really ALL about safety. Assisting the passengers is not my job at all. Serving food and drinks is really just a favor that we do between all the life saving throughout the flight. We are practically air-doctors, don't call me stewardess.

I’m the straight bro who can’t be bothered to dress decently. My sweat pants inadvertently show off my VPL. You’re welcome

I’m the teenaged girl sitting in front of you who pushes her seat back all the way back as soon as she can and keeps it there the whole flight whether she’s actually reclining or not.

I'm the cunt sitting behind you who feels the need to put my manky bare foot on your armrest. I'm hoping you won't lean on my foot inadvertently or stab it with a plastic fork.

I'm also the cunt sitting in front of you who drapes my long hair over the headrest and obscures your screen. I'm hoping you won't get my hair caught in your meal tray inadvertantly or put something nasty in it.

I’m the first class window-seat passenger who didn’t do early invalid boarding and thus had to squeeze by the 400 pound man, all the while smelling his disgusting Italian sandwich he brought on board because no real food is served in 1st. 🤢 As he gobbled it up I order two bloody Mary’s stat!

👀 r200

Lmfao. Love it. That passenger was doing the Lord's work with the chewing gum! Hair bitch is in for a surprise on landing. Thanks for posting, R202.

Brilliant.

I am a time machine and I will take you back to 1965 when flying was fun and a pleasure.. I see a nice family of four, all dressed up, getting right to their seats because your are allowed to check one big suitcase up to 50 lbs FOR FREE for each member of the family..., I’m the nice wide body jet that seats two and two along the aisle and four in-between. You need a bathroom break? No problem, as there is no tripping over two seat mates to get out of your window seat as there’s plenty of room for all and every one of your body parts. Hungry, no problem, you got a full meal that everyone made fun of, now if they get a cup of water, they will be grateful...I see pleasant flight attendants who are happy to have their job and unruly passengers are far, far into the future Welcome aboard and you WILL have a pleasant flight

^ In contrast to that, I am today's casual flyer who is not in the mood to pay a dime more than the absolute minimum. I rather fly Spirit (well, if they actually fly) than paying $100.00 more for a more comfortable flight. I fly three times a year to Vegas. The flight is only two hours, so comfort is not my priority. Sure, the plane is tight. No, the service isn't great, but I rather spend my money at the destination. I get what I pay for. Flying is like taking the subway. It's hell, but I'm not willing to spend money on this part of my many vacations.

In the future I may make flights part of my vacation already. I may splurge and book one of those fancy Arab or Asian airlines. But my salary isn't quite there yet for that, and I want to see other places now already.

I'm the corpse stuck in the coffin down in the luggage hold. At least I've got plenty of legroom.

It may be cheaper today but it's still a nightmare

1941 R206? How about 1965...we flew to Miami from NY three times a yr.

My parents were cheap...no way would they have spent that

I'm the woman from Nyack who booked her and her husband's flight last minute and am wondering would you mind trading your aisle seat for the middle seat back in 59E so my husband can sit with me?

I’m the eldergay bragging loudly (to the practically empty cabin) I just ended it with my side piece in SF before heading back to my husband in Houston. Barely anyone notices as they settle into their on-board suite.

Since this is a business trip and I’m traveling with colleagues, I decide to get drunk and hook-up with the twink working the rear section of the plane in an economy loo. I’m told (by said twink) to please keep it on the low so they don’t lose their job.

I proceed to tell everyone that will listen in one of the business class lounge restaurants that I not only fucked the FA, but I proceed to provide a description and his next travel route to the amusement of the other travelers! Also, the twink says he may be in love with me because he likes “sexy” older men.

The cherry on top is that I out my new coworker and her girlfriend (a contractor that has been hired to work on our project in Spain) to my colleagues and the listening public.

Though we’re in a Muslim country, everyone is entertained by my drunken revelations and are sad to see me gently escorted to another area to “refresh” myself.

I’m Linda, your 60something flight attendant. Yes, four decades after my Pan Am training video debut, I’m still at it, now pushing my sad little beverage cart down the narrow aisle of a Spirit Airlines Greyhound sky bus.

I long for the glory days of high-end air travel when the head stewardess commanded RESPECT. Today I will take my resentment out on the youngish “casual” passenger in seat R206 who looks too poor to invest in a luxury flying experience. I blame him and his ilk for the rise of economy air jalopies like this one!

DON’T FUCK WITH ME, FELLA!

I’m the hot flight attendant.

I won’t be serving your section of the plane.

I'm Group 8.

Shoot me now.

I'm the passenger playing "Spot the Air Marshall." Hint: look for the concealed weapon.

I'm the Silver Daddy who hasn't paid for the second drink in decades -- even with the new, no-touch, order online with your stored credit card trend. It's not just the Twink FA's who are nice to me -- it's the old, bitter (about their shitty jobs, not about their lives), union women FA's who do this, too. I fly transcon often, at least every other month. Was once told by an 18-year old chatty nervous flyer middle seatmate girl en route to her preppy college in Boston that I reminded her of her Dad's favorite brother - who was obviously her designated Gay Uncle. I gave her a low-dose edible gum. Everyone around us was happier. Somehow, a free magnum of Champaign and OJ appeared on my tray... I can afford a $12 second drink, but kindness at 35,000 feet makes me feel high.

I'm a Southwest flight scheduled in late December 2022.

Chances are, I'm canceled.

I’m the curtain between coach and first. Don’t even think about it scum!

I am the goats and chickens who now have free run of the aisles on most domestic Aero Mexico flights

I'm am now but a distant and sad memory of my first flight with my parents on TWA in 1970. All dressed up in my little suit jacket with tie and polished shoes. Everyone , even us children, all on our best behavior. Passengers acted civilized back then, now they act like fucking animals.

I’m the little pack of 4 Winston cigarettes they used to serve with each meal, along with a miniature pack of 6 matches.

Wasn’t that considerate!

I’m the cane only deployed by my eldergay when they call for early boarders who need a little extra time.

I am the overhead bin that corresponds to seat d3 ...I dont give twelve shits if you pushed and lied your way onto the plane before my seat holder. He is gonna toss your oversized piece of crap bag out and put his bag in

And NO, I wont trade my seat for your one by the tail

[quote] All dressed up in my little suit jacket with tie and polished shoes.

MARY.

I am a waspy woman named Margaret sitting in first class scolding the flight attendants in front of everyone because my martini wasn't strong enough or tastes cheap. "No wonder why you work as a stewardess. You're untalented and worthless!"

I'm the four-year-old bastard that's going to kick the back of your seat for six straight hours while my parents ignore me.

I'm the asshole who reclines my seat as soon as the flight attendant checks my row for seatbelt compliance before takeoff.

The people are so interesting!