Must.Be.First.Off. Mike. You know Mike. As soon as the plane touches down he’s got his finger on the seat belt release. As soon as the gate is in sight you hear the unmistakable sound of the metallic release. Mike is up and out of his seat, hand luggage in hand before the doors to manual cross check is complete. If getting off the plane first is a race, it’s one that Mike isn’t going to lose. Even if it means taking out a few grannies and toddlers on his way.
I don’t travel as much as many do. That said, I’ve spent a fair amount of time taxi-ing and learning the correct position to use if I hear “Brace. Brace.” I’ve spent plenty of woman hours hurtling through the air with a bunch of strangers, angling for arm space and eking out some elbow room. Between zoning out during the oxygen mask demo and listening for that blessed announcement asking the flight crew to prepare for landing, there’s been time enough to observe. People are creatures of habit, and there are behaviors you’ll recognize wherever you are.
I’m just doing my job taking notes.
Clueless Clive. It’s clear Clive hasn’t flown since the end of the Cold War. Unused to security measures put into place sometime in the last century, Clive mumbles and bumbles his way through the airport. Despite written, pictorial and holographic directives, Clive is astounded when he is…
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