Ready, Set...Takeoff.
Thoughts from a self proclaimed germaphobe on her first flight post Covid
I arrived at Gate 16 at RDU for my first flight since Covid began. Traveling used to be something I looked forward to. Packing for a trip across the country or out of it, filled me with excitement and anticipation. But that was before Covid. Now, I am trying to minimize contact and bring only one roller bag and my back pack…no checked bags. This way I can board and exit quickly and spend less time on the airplane and in the airport. I have become less of a people-y person than my prior social self. Now, traveling feels scary.
Cover your face.
Stay away from people.
Don’t touch anything.
For a germaphobe like myself, I feel the world knows me a little better but my world seems to have gotten quite a bit smaller.
I used to enjoy making friends in an airport. Saying hello and hearing about other people's travels. The world changed and I don’t think it’s changing back anytime soon.
I am on my way to visit friends in Chicago. I would not get on a plane for many people but my reward is five days of laughter, hugs and fun times with people I love and who also love me back in equal measure unconditionally.
How could I say no to that?
Layered up in my favorite hoodie, my go-to denim jacket, the lulu vinyasa scarf that I always travel with and of course my face mask, I feel ready to take on the challenges of my first trip in almost three years. I wrap my scarf twice around my neck and pull the back up and over my head and it looks, only my eyes are visible. Do I look scary or just crazy? I don’t care. It’s not like I know anyone here or will know anyone. Getting to know someone here is the last thing on my list. At least I will be protected from the germs. Happy I have my vinyasa scarf, I pull it down a little further now covering my forehead.
I found a seat at the gate next to an empty seat. There was a time when I would purposely sit next to someone who looked kind or good looking or was a young parent with a child. Now I look for an empty seat. It feels so lonely traveling now. Sitting at Gate 16, I sip my Venti Americano and enjoy gazing around at the various people. People watching has always been a fun activity. In the middle of my gazing time, a voice from the loudspeaker grabs my attention.
“Attention flight 4503. We are currently looking for one passenger to voluntarily give up their seat for a flight voucher of $650. If you have a flexible flight schedule please come to the gate”.
Taking a sip of the hot coffee, the warm liquid rushes down my body, warming it and soothing my nerves. Pressing my tired feet to the ground, I stand and look around. There must be at least fifty young people sitting against the wall. Curious. Hmmm. I wonder why they aren’t taking advantage of this opportunity? Six- hundred and fifty dollars is a lot of money. Someone must want this. Are they all traveling as a group? No one rushes toward the gate attendant to get the voucher. When I was young I would have jumped at this.
I walk to the gate slowly hoping someone will see me and rush in front of me. No one does.
“I will give up my seat if I can be assured of a flight.”
The attendant assures me he can get me to Chicago tonight. Just three hours later.
“Okay. Let’s do it.”
I don’t mind waiting in an airport. More than anything I hate rushing. I am happy to relinquish my seat to someone who needs it.
The attendant asks me to step aside as he makes all of the necessary arrangements. Dutifully I listen and take a seat against the wall.
“We are now boarding flight 4503. Will all first class passengers please begin to form a line”
All of the young people stand. Each one wearing jeans, T-shirts and either a jacket or hoodie. Are they with a school? They look like they are high school students. The first class passengers begin to enter the plane. It is only after the young people stand that I notice their tan backpacks. All of them have identical backpacks or duffel bags. They can’t be more than eighteen or nineteen. Some of the packs say PLT with a name. This must be identifying a platoon number along with their name. Some are wearing USMC hats. United States Marine Corps. Now this makes sense. Likely, they are going to basic training for the Marines.
A reverence comes over me as I look at each one of these “kids”. Each one belongs to a family. Maybe he or she has friends. Hopefully each one feels loved by someone. I whisper silent prayers to them as they walk past me to board the flight. I feel honored to have stepped aside for them.
As each young person passes a barely perceptible nod is given as a gesture of gratitude.
‘Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
May you be kept safe and well.
I whisper as they walk hoping my words embrace them, just as a warm hug feels healing and protective, I hope these words act as a protective shield around each one.
The young girl with a swollen blistery pimple on her right check catches my attention. Her auburn hair is pulled back in a neat ponytail that hangs beneath the nape of her neck. She is someone’s daughter. My mind drifts to my own daughter who is a decade or more older than this girl. I imagine the pain of saying farewell and the fear of not seeing one’s baby again. However old a child gets, they are always babies to their parents. This baby is signed up for at least four years of hard and scary work. I wonder about her parents. Does she come from a military family? Or maybe she enlisted to run away from family? Or maybe it is just a strong sense of duty.
She is giggling and smiling with her pals unaware of what is to come. They all are. After all, it is only once we age that wisdom lifts the veils and takes off our blinders so we are able to see more clearly.
“May all of these children stay safe from harm and may each of you go back to your families unharmed”. My heart is wide open, enveloping them all and sending this heartfelt wish to them and their families.
There was a time I wanted to be this young girl. After going to an all girls boarding school, I tried diligently to get into service. Epilepsy was my stop gap. I was denied each time I tried with the various recruiters. At that time, I would have been running away from my family. Always trying to gain a sense of stability I thought this would have been a great life for me. It wasn’t meant to be. But I honor everyone who decides it is the right path for him or her politics aside. It is a sacrifice.
They are all safely aboard. Still, I stand waiting at the gate with my backpack and roller bag not knowing if I am on this flight or another.
“We don’t need you to give up your seat. Your seat is still available”
The plane is full sans one empty seat that I walk toward, 15C. Walking toward my seat I notice no one is wearing a mask except for the flight attendants and myself. My stomach feels queasy now and there is a small simmering anger that lies inside of me. How can people be in a tube with recirculated air and not be wearing a mask. I hurry to my aisle seat. I always need the aisle. Between my bad leg and my tiny bladder it is a sure thing that I will need to get up during the flight. I don’t like annoying any other passengers.
I say hello to my seat mate and she politely returns the gesture, immediately she puts on her Bose noiseless headphones. Ok. So I won’t be chatting with her.
Was she afraid of me because of my head being hooded and my face being masked? Maybe. But maybe she just doesn’t want to engage.
Mid flight she sneezed!
The nerve of her. My body shuddered at the involuntary eruption that came from her. As I winced in utter disgust that someone would be so rude, my evil death scare showed her how displeased I was that she was maskless. I imagine all of the germs floating directly over to me and into my Sprite Zero. Instinctively, my hand covers the can.
The prayers I previously uttered now become “HOW DARE YOU’S” said silently. I can tell she knows how upset I am at her. Part of me feels sad that I am. I doubt I would have reacted in such a manner before Covid.
She brought her face down and played solitaire. Her chubby fingers tapped the screen and ordered the playing cards. I watched as she smiled at her success in winning each game. I notice the large fake ring in her left pointer finger. What else is fake about her, I wonder?
She sneezes two more times. After sitting next to SNEEZY for two hours I know I will need Doc!
Each time causing my body to shift as far away as possible. Each time triggering the silent death stare. If looks could kill, this one would and she would be sitting there slumped and silent for the rest of the flight. I hate being in this tube of germs! Damn her
The plane descends and finally lands. Miraculously, I am still alive. No cough. No sneeze. I can finally breathe. As I walk off the plane with all of the passengers remembering that one fourth of the plane are young people going to serve our nation's military.
Thank you again, I whisper. May the Universe hold you in safe keeping.
I got into the car with my lovely friend-family and their beautiful one-year old baby girl. Sitting next to my young seatmate, she smiles, showing me her new teeth and proceeds to sneeze at me. Not just in my direction but AT me. Mucus now dripping from her nose in what could easily pass for green slime.
“Oh goodness Sita, you are the cutest!” I lean toward her with a tissue embracing this bundle of deliciousness who is a living, breathing petri dish. None of her germs feel disarming.
My friends look at me and ask “how was your flight”. Without missing a beat I respond “one of the best flights ever.”
Achoo! Loved your story. Congratulations on your first post.
Congrats on your first post. Great story!