Saturday, July 5, 2014


I leaned over to the stewardess, "Excuse me, where is my airsick bag?"  The two passengers next to me turn my way simultaneously as if they were Agent Smith's from the movie "The Matrix" and just stare at me in horror.  This flight isn't going to go well.

I was just returning from a trip to Tanzania and going back through Dubai on United Emirates on the way to New York.  This was a 13 plus hour trip on an actual nice airline.  But unfortunately I chose to eat fast food at the Dubai airport and apparently I got food poisoning from the Dairy Queen.



For the guy that seems to never get sick travelling, here I was with an almost instantaneous feeling to throw up.  I couldn't find the airsick bag fast enough.  Well, okay, fortunately for the other passengers, I did find that quick enough.  What I didn't do quick enough was make it to the bathroom before having to actually use one of these.  Bonus show for the economy passengers on flight "Oh Crap" bound for New York City.  As if 13 plus hours cooped up in an economy seat wasn't enough suffering, they had to watch me puking up hamburger and milkshake into a little white bag like I'm self creating some sort of fast food smoothie (okay, I went to the gross side...sorry).

Food Poisoning...this is the last thing you will see...
Fortunately for me, the airplane was large enough to have several bathrooms to choose from and so it wasn't like I was causing up every passenger on the flight to stand in line in front of my bathroom waiting.  That was a good thing, because I spent the next 10 hours in there!

Why is that guy STILL in the bathroom?
10 hours in the smallest of bathrooms.  The majority of that time I spent throwing up every conceivable drop of food and liquid my body had.  At some point I think I prayed a surface to air missile might just graze our plane ripping a hole in that bathroom and sucking me out of the plane to put me out of my misery.  But you never get what you really want and so I rode out the inevitable body aches that food poisoning adds to your vomiting agenda.

10 hours laying on the floor, hanging over the toilet.  Now I know what solitary confinement is like.  By the time I felt like I could crawl back to my seat, I figured my co-passengers had already auctioned off all my carry on items to the highest bidder on the plane.  I'd start seeing my personal items being used all over the plane.  I was delirious and exhausted.

But my co-passengers hadn't touched my belongings and they only looked at me as if I'd fallen out of the plane and somehow bungee'd back onto it.  And believe me, I felt like I had.

New York wasn't my final destination either.  I still had a six hour flight to the West Coast and being that I came internationally and was doing my next leg domestically, I got the added pleasure of having to retrieve my checked baggage and go through customs, walk to the next building and check them back in.

Grabbing my suitcase felt like somebody had asked me to carry my car over to the baggage terminal.  I slid it pathetically across the floor and then rolled it outside and across the sidewalk until I made it to the other terminal.  I collapsed on the floor and remained there until boarding.  I'm not sure if people thought I was dead or drunk but nobody seemed to bother me and I somehow made it onto the next flight.

Why didn't I pack lighter for this flight...
Suffice it to say that was the third worst flight I'd ever taken.  I know, I know, you're thinking, "Now what could top that?"  But that would be another two posts and another two continents. Stay tuned, I'll get to them.

So next time you feel a bit cooped up in the airplane bathroom, just try to imagine spending 10 hours in it...

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