In-flight Entertainment

There are those who love flying and there are those who hate it with a burning, fiery passion that could fuel jet engines. I am blessed to find myself in the second category. Whichever group you align yourself with, if you know what to look for, it can be very entertaining to take note of the assortment of folks you’re lumped with in your respective air socks.

Before I launch into what it is you ought to be looking for, I should explain that I am a chronic people watcher. A great night out for me is to sit at a quaint coffee spot, in a location with generous amounts of foot traffic and a steaming mug of something caffeinated. I find nothing more mesmerizing than watching the throngs of people walking by. There is a library of stories in each person’s brief visit into my line of vision. Their shuffle, their strut or their saunter gives away mysteries they may not even know. Whether or not they meet my eye or look away gives me a sense of the character of stroller I’m playing chicken with. And the snippets of conversation I’m privy to, often have me shaking my head and rubbing my temples. I’m fully aware that I am hearing shavings of conversations that could be extracted from a thesis of brilliance and wisdom, but forgive me for my nagging doubt. Anyhow, I digress.

I have noticed that there is a pretty precise template for the characters you will meet on your flight. No matter where you’re going or where you’re coming from, you will have your standard performers. Which is something of a comfort to those of us who find everything about hurtling thousands of feet in the air in a metal tube somewhat unnerving.

There is always the harassed mother. You know the one. She can be found trying desperately to exude an air of indifference while her child gives every passenger a deep understanding of the shape of their tonsils and the capacity of their lungs. She usually fails. I’m just saying. But coming from a family of four older sisters, each with a healthy number of offspring of their own, I feel a kinship with these women and I usually try and shoot them a dazzling smile of sisterhood support. Mostly that gets them whispering to said child not to talk to the grinning lady across the aisle.

One of my favourite airplane characters is the ‘narcoleptic’. The one who’s anal-optic nerve kicks in within seconds of finding their seat. These entertainers spend the flight jerking awake in the nick of time before toppling head-first into the aisle. A brief moment of confused blinking generally follows and the head lolling resumes. I enjoy this act tremendously.

Then you have the ‘golden retriever’. This is the person that stows their carry-on in the heaviest traffic spot they can find on the plane. Then, for the duration of the flight, they busy themselves elbowing people in the ribs, regularly displaying their armpits to the fortunate souls beneath their precious cargo and causing mild concussions with each dramatic reclamation of their critical possessions. It’s usually the earphones they stowed ten minutes earlier. The acute desperation for such items is nary unappreciated by their fellow passengers.

Every flight has a ‘techno-junkie.’ I guess this is the role I picked out of the stage directors hat. This is the individual who more often than not resembles a hospital patient. Pale and wan from sitting in an office for most of their lives and hunched over from many hours spent gazing lovingly into their computer screens. These are the people with every assortment of gizmo and gadget propped around their seat, and nudging ever so slightly into the personal space zone of their neighbor. They’ll usually grunt at the air hostesses when asked something before removing their earphones and absorbing the question posed at them. This person is usually awesome.

There is always a ‘traveler’. Someone who once heard of DVT and feels an urgent need to troll the aisles till the end of time. It’s sometimes confusing when you see them mooch past you through the corner of your eye and then minutes later they’re moseying by from the same direction. I always wonder why they never go the same way they came. I guess they want to get a tour of the entire aircraft. Being that the interior is so dynamic.

I can’t forget the ‘feeder.’ I believe there is an undiscovered condition that these people suffer from. From my perspective as an outsider, it would seem that they are unable to sit through their travels without chewing, gnawing or ingesting something, lest they starve. From the minute they are seated, there is a mad flurry of packages, bags and Tupperware being pulled from every which direction. Sandwiches are dished out to their fellow travelers, snack packets are opened with dramatic flair and the cabin is filled with the very appetizing aromas of their edibles. This activity usually takes place before meals are served and resumes once dishes have been cleared.

As you can tell from my liberal tone and broad-minded acceptance of my fellow passengers, flying is clearly not a hobby of mine. But I’ve started looking at it as I would an evening at the theater. I hand in my ticket, take my seat and wait for the show to unfold.