**No Extensions Required**
Have I told you how much I hate to fly? I never really liked traveling. I am a creature of habit and I love to be in my habit. Traveling takes you out of habit. I am not with my dog. Then, last August I went to Albuquerque and the plane did the shake, rattle, and role the entire way from Denver and now I am stuck with PTSD from it. The turbulence was bad juju magumbo and every flight for my stupid fucking job since, has had me white knuckling it the whole way there and back. Hell I even almost assumed crash position on one flight at take off. However, as a big man, there were other reason I also hated traveling.
Have you ever walked onto a plane and read the eyes of every passenger. Looking at you and thinking omg, I hope I don't have to sit next to them because they are so large? It lead me to only flying first class, or getting two seats on the plane. I am not lying those eyes that are haunted whether you are seated or going down the row are cold and callous. I wonder if the people who look at you even realize the look of pity for the person who has to be next to you? And god forbid what if it was them who had to sit next to you?
The kids running a muck in the terminal are no better. The ones you can't really stay mad at because they are young and they don't know any better. The ones that are like god that guy is fat. Or Mommy why is he so big. The ones that make you feel so good about yourself.
Then to me the most humiliating of all is when you are getting on the plane and you have to ask the flight attendant for to the Seat Belt Extender. It is bad enough if you have two seats but to have two seats and to have to ask for the extender just really sucks. The Flight Attendants always try to make it very casual and they know you are embarrassed for asking so they come and give you a very discrete hand off. They usually are very sweet.
I have taken to just getting on and asking for it, from the first attendant I see. Just rip the bandaid off. Get the extender and move along. That is what I did on Monday. She gave it to me and I went seat hunting. I have a really bad habit of finding my seat(s). I thought I was in 15, but I was in 19. Then yesterday I sat in 17 when I was in 18 and argued with the guy when he told me I was in the wrong place.
Anyhoo back to Monday. The first thing I always do when I sit down and I do the measure test. I take the actual seatbelt and I try to close it around me to see how it is going to fit and how much further I have to go. My last flight to California it was a game of inches. Monday though, Monday it went around me without any issue. Then I realized I was using the wrong seatbelt. I was like shit. So, I found the right buckles and tried again and you know what it went around me with a little room to spare. Victory was mine. I actually gave a fist shake to no one. when the flight attendant came by I handed it to her and said I don't need it.
My trip sucked. Things didn't go according to the plan. Work was work. Some feeling were really hurt Tuesday night, but you can't let these things get you down and keep you down. Even when the only reason you were excited to go, turns out to be a big fuck you. You keep your mind busy, and lose yourself in the work. In the drafting of blogs and in exploring your parts.
So on Wednesday when I went to my proper seat. I sat down and I decided to do a new test. Can Billy b fit into one seat and you know what, Billy b does fit into one seat. Fuck ya and it freaks me out.
I fit, I fit, I fit, go Billy b, its your birthday, I fit!!!!
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