This lovely pic of me is on the jetway to the airplane. My hoody and leggings would already be a super sexy combo but strap me into the punishment chair and it’s like, “damn, girl, those buckles really bring out your eyes.”
The gate attendants pull me to my seat and usually ask if I need anything else. I like to reply with, “a nice Chianti and some fava beans,” which, depending on their age gets an awkward laugh or a blank stare. Either way, I don’t care.
I make jokes when I’m uncomfortable (really though, I make jokes all day so you never know) and being strapped into a 16” seat and pulled backward through a crowd of people is definitely on the top of the list of awkward shit I’m not a fan of.
That in flight entertainment is only topped by the gymnastics routine I need to perform to get in the bathroom. Yes, we’re talking about the fucking bathroom again. I can’t help it and I’m learning from this blog what a big, stupid part it plays in my life.
Anyway, so when we’re cruising at thirty thousand feet and I need to use the restroom, I have to call the flight attendant first- which if I’m alone requires me to use a book or long, hard object (insert penis joke here 😂- get it? Insert? Penis?😂 the fun never ends...)
I digress...
so I need something to enable me to reach the ‘call button’ because I’m five feet tall and can’t stand so it’s like three inches out of my reach. I usually plan this process in advance because I have a solid fifteen minutes before I’m anywhere near the restroom depending on how busy the attendants are and how well they know the procedure.
Two of them will escort me in the punishment chair to the restroom and now here comes the real challenge: getting in. I haven’t measured but I’m sure you have an idea how big an airplane bathroom is: Just large enough for everyone to piss on the floor, the walls, and every other surface surrounding the toilet.
*Pro tip- I always ask for rubber gloves before performing my gymnastics routine. They always have them on hand.*
The attendants roll the seat into the bathroom facing the toilet and I have them get me as close as possible. Then I have to hoist myself face first toward the death hole and spin mid air to execute a perfect landing - HOPEFULLY. One time - and thankfully only once, I fell onto the floor and had to pick myself up while I died of embarrassment and prayed the five second rule applied to communicable diseases and my body.
Once in, I have to get my pants off and back on again (while seated) so they can once again see me sitting (fully clothed) on the commode and pole vault my way back out.
It’s the best HIIT workout I get. Seriously.
If you want to try this at home, put your kitchen chair in front of your toilet so your knees are a few inches from the bowl and try to get on without using your legs. Actually, do not try this at home.
I could’ve recorded it for your entertainment but I WOULD NEVER 😂
Plus, In the end, it’s worth it. I get to travel and go places. I might lose some dignity along the way, but that just adds to the fun- well, everyone else’s fun...
So next time your row-mate opens a tuna sandwich, remember, it could always be worse.
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