Tonight I broke a new rule, with only minor anxiety and
sweatiness. Get ready for it...
I did not put on my seat belt on my airline flight.
At all.
Home
skillet next to me was just playing Family Feud on his iPad with such alarming
agility I couldn't bring myself to ask him to lift his ass and hand over my other
half. I did flop the free end over my lap to deter the stewardess in her
rounds. Then I sat back and managed to peacefully ride without one iota of thought (read: 5,000
nervous glances to the fasten seat belt light) about my potentially
precarious position.
Rule. Breaker. Next stop BAMFdom.
This is actually huge for me. I don't go outside the lines.
This is closer to me on a plane:
 |
| Yes ma'am, I will do exactly as told, regardless of dumbassability. |
As I have posted before,
things like couch-forts (forts, not farts, which can also be baffling in the
living room) in the living room or eating ice cream for breakfast totally blow
my skirt up.
I actually had a very funny pilot on what must have been
a Southwest flight, bc only they allow humor, who came on after we touched down
to announce that 16 people did not have their seatbelts on, according to what
was likely a made up tracker. He told us not to look around for the culprits because it would make our neighbors uncomfy. He then informed us of a fun fact: in
the history of the TSA, no passenger has ever beat their plane to the gate. Maybe not, but I sure skirted the lines of death tonight,
broke all your crazy rules and lived to blog about it you sneaky bastards.
Update: the liberation stopped on my second segment.
Seatbelt snuggly fastened and unbudgey on flight #2.
