I Hate Flying

I hate plane rides. It’s the only time you’ll ever find me sober. I haven’t quite built up the tolerance to fly yet but I hope to one day. I’ve started going on roller coaster thinking it would help make me tougher and more immune to that flying feeling. It’s almost identical as to when you’re ascending or defending into the air when I’m on roller coasters, my stomach drops, my hands clench, and I close my eyes wishing for it to be over so I can get my feet on solid ground. When it’s cruising I’m fine but the change of elevation in such a accelerated amount of time almost makes me puke.

Fortunately once the flight reached peak elevation, I was able to open my eyes and actually read a little bit. I didn’t realize how attractive the girl was sitting next to me on the plane. I wanted nothing more to do than to talk to her, she was wicked attractive. I just found myself so hesitant and so scared to make a move not because I stink t talking to girls but because how much of a pussy I was about flying.

I wanted to talk to her but I knew I could only hold conversation for so long until I needed to end it to close my eyes while we tried to land. I couldn’t land and keep conversation with someone unless they repeatedly asking me if I was okay so I could just grunt a “Mhm” and shut them up while I squeeze the blood out of their hands. I couldn’t put her through that. If I did try to talk to her my mind would instantly shut down anyway, my palms would be sweat, and I can feel my face getting hot and as red as a lobster as I trying to find some or any words to say to her.

It was hard enough to be flying I couldn’t push myself to even say hi to her. Plus the entire plane was silent. There was no way I wanted everyone to hear me get shut down at thirty thousand feet in the air because of my lack of game. As high as we were, the though of me embarrassing myself, made me feel so low as Spongebob was in Rock Bottom.

The worst part for me about the whole flying thing is the landing, it kills me. I don’t know if this happened to be this guys first time flying or if he was just need improvement with his landing but he definitely wasn’t advanced or proficient. I bet he was the pleasure to have in class back in the day. The flight was smooth up until he went over the microphone and told us we would be on the ground in ten minutes I believed him. I closed my eyes, felt the plan begin to descend, and trusted to have my feet back on the Earth in twenty minutes.

Next thing I know I feel the plane change it’s mind and pull up back up to go back into the sky. Once he felt he was high enough I felt him hang a hard left and circle back to the front of the run way to try again. If my eyes were open there’s no doubt in my mind I would have puked. Seeing the plan rising back up on it’s incline after the first failed landing attempt. As he descended for a second time, I kept my eyes closed, hoping I’d hear the brakes screech as we finally land. I close my hard tighter as I feel him pull up again, just before we were supposed to touch down, he pulled back up for a second time. Again ascending until he was high enough bang his left turn and lining up the runway for a third time.

Fortunately I was jolted forward, in my loose seat belt, and hit with the resistance of the ground while the planes inertia battled each other to slow down. Finally land, I felt safe. The sickness in my stomach, the one you get when you go on a roller coaster you dread, and instantaneously felt better. I hate plane rides. I hope one time I build up enough tolerance to fly around the world.

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