What’s Your Pleasure?You gotta be kidding me? I live 99 minutes away from the Columbus Metropolitan Heliport (CMH), a.k.a the airirport, and my flight departs at 0700. Strapping a plane to my buttock for the better part of the day could have started at a more reasonable hour right? Nope, not this time. Off to the 29th Bataan Memorial Death March held at White Sands Missile Range, New Mexico. As a five-time veteran of the march, I’m truly looking forward to the breath-taking view of mountains, and the desert vista stretching out for miles upon miles. The sand so white one can see it from the moon. Not having been to the moon, I’ll take COL Glenn’s word for it.
As I boarded at 0644, my Motus Operandi remained the same; find my seat, stow my gear, and pass out for the first thirty minutes. I don’t even hear a word of the safety briefing before I’m sleeping like a baby, a log, the dead. The plane could get hit by lightning, do six complete barrel rolls, and take a 62-degree nose down dive into the dirt and I wouldn’t notice. Seriously, I’m lights out.
What happens around me during this blissful 30 minutes? Not a clue. What I do know is when I awake, the prickly heat of stares is upon me. Not that I care, because I’m refreshed, feeling good, ready to get to work. However, I do have to wonder…was I snoring, drooling, talking in my sleep? Unless someone has their phone out filming, I’ll never know. Which brings me to my precise point.
Countless Souls and I have spent numerous hours flying around the globe together leading me to one realization; we all fit loosely into one of the below airborne slumbering categories...
Ya gotta pick one, because you know you fit in. So, What’s Your Pleasure?
The Fly Catcher? Now this dude is a modern-day miracle. Totally slack jawed, mouth gapping wide, preparing to catch any fly, insect, or piece of dust floating around the cabin looking for a home. Now this may be me, but I tell ya, there are times on the way to the bathroom, I could perform minor dental surgery. Counting molars, crowns, cavities, false teeth, is a favorite pastime. I’m always tempted to drop a few peanuts or pretzels into the awaiting gob of the person looking most like a baby bird waiting for the first spring worm. Amazing.
The Rubber Neck? This individual is just too painful to watch. My family just loves America’s Funniest Home Video’s and what’s an episode without a hilarious sequence of infants with their heads lolling about, falling asleep in their mash potatoes, birthday cake, or a plate of spaghetti? Now fast forward to the average age of an airline passenger, and 1/3 of us fall into this category. No way could they bend their necks at such obtuse angels while awake. Those masseuses who rent a place at the airport and give the 15 minute neck and back rubs will never, I repeat NEVER be out of work as long as I'm around.
The Snort-asaurus? One of my most favorite! You can just tell sleeping beauty is semi-conscious, knowing he snores like a freight train at home, not wanting to spill the beans in public. Well, too late, as an incredibly deep, loud, most often sharp SNORT echoes throughout the cabin. If pigs could fly it’d get their attention! Now this dude has scared awake anyone slumbering within three rows and they are tryin to figure out what hit the plane or what part just got ingested into the engine. Heart rates begin to slow as the Snort-asaurus relaxes back into his gasping rhythm…
The Space Invader? This species is most often found on flights departing Las Vegas. After a hard night of making sure what happened in Vegas, stays in Vegas, this bachelor party veteran is ready for the sack. There’s a method to his madness; The invasion starts slowly on the arm rest while his seat-mates are still awake. The plan breaks ground, levels off and then phase two commences. The unlucky seat-mate finds his stale alcohol exuding BFF snoring gently on his shoulder. The human pillow adjusts slightly, leans toward the window and gives up more space not wanting to interrupt such an awesome nap. Phase three… total muscle relaxation. The slumbering individual now fully leans on his neighbor, shattering all socially acceptable definitions of personal space. If it's a trip back to Boston the Space Invader may take the liberty of laying down in their new buddies lap like a four year old with his Momma. AWKWARRRRDD!
The Puddle Maker? Now this is just gross. But ahh yes, it happens, especially to those of you who use your tray as a pillow. The Puddle Maker is hard at work as he dreams away, leaving you wonder just how much salvia a person can manufacture. Seriously, where is all this drool coming from? Worst waking nightmare? This torrential downpour dangles from the tray over the line of demarcation into your space. Then what do you do? Seriously, What do you do?? Best part though, is when PM wakes up. Totally unaware of the St. Bernard worthy string of white frothy gunk hanging from his lower lip connecting him to his shirt, pants, tray, or all of the above. Then he realizes he's done it again and tries to figure out what to do the newly formed lake under foot. A Classic to observe!
So we all fit into a category people. What’s Your Pleasure?