guh-ROSS
Traveling makes me feel dirty. Once I enter a plane, I now have the burden of carrying everyone else’s germs with me. As if every one of the thousands of asses that sat in my seat before me have now been imprinted onto my rear end. I have this immediate need to wash my hands, clothes and any other part of me that comes into contact with any part of the plane. And God forbid I cross contaminate. No way can my dirty, plane infested fingers touch any part of me that’s been saved by my clothing.
And it’s not like the airline industry makes it any easier. Fishing for the seatbelt through the crack between seats, lowering and raising sticky tray tables, and trying not to let the worn out fabric of my seat rub against my lower back/butt crack, because thanks to fashion designers everywhere low-rise jeans are the shit, can all get quite disgusting and exhausting.
Not a big fan of the re-circulated air either. Certain smells are only meant to be enjoyed in the privacy of one’s bathroom and have no right invading my nostrils over and over again.
Before you get the wrong idea, I’m not some über germophobe who suffers from a serious case of OCD and needs to wash her hands exactly fifteen times every sixty seconds. It’s just the idea of sharing long periods of time in close proximity to absolute strangers that starts to wig me out. And not just the current strangers. But also the ghosts of strangers before them. Knowing that every, single person has left a little, tiny bit of something behind. Spooky, eh?
Maybe I can start my own airline. I’d call it CleanAir. All the seats would have disposable seat covers that would be changed after each flight segment. The flight attendants would pass out hand sanitizing cloths once everyone was comfortably seated. The tray tables would be voice operated, and with two simple commands (“Down” and “Up”), would remove all need to touch them. The lavatories would be three times the size of current airplane lavatories, and would have those toilets with the built-in seat covers that automatically change when it senses a person in front of it. There would also be a bidet, y’know…in case someone needs it.
My airline would be every clean freak's dream come true. Sure it might cost $1,200 to fly from LA to San Francisco, but who wouldn’t pay that for cabin air that’s been cleaned with Oust®?
Oh to dream…
And it’s not like the airline industry makes it any easier. Fishing for the seatbelt through the crack between seats, lowering and raising sticky tray tables, and trying not to let the worn out fabric of my seat rub against my lower back/butt crack, because thanks to fashion designers everywhere low-rise jeans are the shit, can all get quite disgusting and exhausting.
Not a big fan of the re-circulated air either. Certain smells are only meant to be enjoyed in the privacy of one’s bathroom and have no right invading my nostrils over and over again.
Before you get the wrong idea, I’m not some über germophobe who suffers from a serious case of OCD and needs to wash her hands exactly fifteen times every sixty seconds. It’s just the idea of sharing long periods of time in close proximity to absolute strangers that starts to wig me out. And not just the current strangers. But also the ghosts of strangers before them. Knowing that every, single person has left a little, tiny bit of something behind. Spooky, eh?
Maybe I can start my own airline. I’d call it CleanAir. All the seats would have disposable seat covers that would be changed after each flight segment. The flight attendants would pass out hand sanitizing cloths once everyone was comfortably seated. The tray tables would be voice operated, and with two simple commands (“Down” and “Up”), would remove all need to touch them. The lavatories would be three times the size of current airplane lavatories, and would have those toilets with the built-in seat covers that automatically change when it senses a person in front of it. There would also be a bidet, y’know…in case someone needs it.
My airline would be every clean freak's dream come true. Sure it might cost $1,200 to fly from LA to San Francisco, but who wouldn’t pay that for cabin air that’s been cleaned with Oust®?
Oh to dream…
posted by DP at 7:22 PM
2 Comments:
I might be weird, but I don't ever get that creepy icked out feeling on planes. I rarely get it all. Perhaps it's because my parents worked in hospitals and I know that germs aren't going to hurt you too much.
Although trying on swimsuits ALWAYS makes me feel very dirty. Like always wish I had 19 pairs of underwear on when trying them on.
Oh Deeps, it's good to have you back. I'm sorry it took me so long to notice that you were.
My sorrowful condolences about your father and my heartfelt congratulations to you as a new bride! Can't wait to hear what PR is like and per Ali's request, wedding pictures please....
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