Dirty hands

Story:

UA, Credit- Wikipedia

UA, Credit- Wikipedia

I was on a trip with my two children to Virgina. When we went to the airport in Denver that morning it turned out our flight was over-booked and they were bumping us to a flight the next day. With my two teenage sons in tow I went to customer service in hopes of finding an alternative way to our final destination, as the last thing I wanted to do was waste one day of vacation time.

After nearly 30 minutes on her computer a young woman was able to book us on five different “puddle jumper” planes that would let us arrive at our destination about the same time as our previous flight. I have to admit as a flight attendant; the last thing I could think of as exciting was taking all those small jets; although very safe, they are also small and noisy. Well, my kids and I embarked on our adventure, all of us trying to laugh and stay positive.

On our third or fourth flight,it’s easy to lose track, we were feeling a little tired of the constant up and down, plus my ears were refusing to pop. I felt legally deaf. It became custom to sit my kids together while I sat next to another passenger, or in the dreaded solo seat, the one that rattles you like a roller coaster the whole trip. Or the best of all is the seat right across from the bathroom. It is the smelliest and loudest seat on the plane. This was the flight where my kids sat in the first row and I got the last row with the bathroom. Thankfully  I was not alone, as they sat a fellow tired traveler in the same dreaded row.

Before the flight took off the flight attendant came back and placed a large handful of wet wipes on the sink in the bathroom, stopping to explain to us the water was not working and everyone would have to use the wipes to clean their hands. Being a 40 minute flight I figured not many would be using the bathroom.

The man next to me was a chatty type of person, starting conversation with me before we sat down. I had to admit it was nice to have someone to talk to, plus he had a great sense of humor really brightening up my situation. About half way into the flight I began to realize how many people were using the bathroom; it seemed as if most of the passangers had gone at least twice. By coincidence I happened to glance in the bathroom and saw the pile of handiwipes had not gone down much. I quickly pointed this out to my fellow traveler. The laughs and jokes began immediately. It was endless entertainment for him and me. The only problem was we were in the noisy seats and I was nearly deaf so we were talking so loudly the whole plane could hear us, something we were totally unaware of. As we got ready to get off the plane, we started receiving mean looks one man even told us to mind our own business. I felt like a complete social outcast from this small community.

As we began to run off to catch our next flight, my oldest son offered to sit in the third seat next flight. As I began to thank him, he waved his hand to stop me before I expressed to much gratitude, explaining to me that he could not take one more flight where I was one of the most-hated passengers. I stayed quiet while flying after that.

Location: in the air Denver Colo

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