I don’t understand why people drink on planes.

Right now, at this juncture, I’m not sure why anyone drinks (to excess) in the first place. But that’s just because I’m experiencing the unfortunate after effects of a condition called Too-Much-Tequila.

I just feel like you see people drink a lot on planes, like it’s a good idea.

I don’t understand it.

There are pressure changes and recycled air. Tiny bathrooms. Too-small seats. Not enough leg room.  Too many people, strangers.

Not to mention that obviously if the flight is long enough to allow for the on-set of the hangover, you’re basically fucked. That would be terrible.

The only thing I want to do on a plane is sleep in hopes that when I wake up it’s over and I can gtfo. When I find my seat, I shove my shit under the seat in front of me, grab LP and lean against the window. I shut my eyes and hope sleep finds me. Luckily, it always does because I can pretty much sleep anywhere anytime.

While I don’t usually sleep the entire flight uninterrupted, I wake up long enough to turn my ipod on once the “fasten seatbelt” light has been turned off then zonk back out.  Next, I wake up just in time to tell the flight attendant that I would not like anything to drink.

See? I pass on all liquid on planes. How do people decide to hit the hard stuff while cruising at 30,000 feet in the air? What is the appeal?

Perhaps I’m looking at this the wrong way. Maybe I would enjoy flying if I got tanked? Just not too tanked before take-off or they won’t let me on the plane. That’s a rule, right? I’ve seen that in movies too.

Oh, in case you noticed, this isn’t a list. It is however another random musing. My lists of late have been stupid. And Drew complained to me about it. So I’m changing things up.

‘Cause it’s my party and I can cry if I want to.

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