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I consider myself a frequent flyer, but even as an aspiring jet setter with a solid collection of airline miles to my name, I can’t say I love air travel. I don’t love the stale airport smell, TSA gives me anxiety (will all of my beauty products make it through?), and I don’t love having to pay $30 for a subpar airport sandwich that will probably require a double dose of emergency Pepto Bismol once the seatbelt sign turns on. Plus, I always book economy flights, which means I usually have to strategically hide my prohibited second personal item under an oversized trench coat to avoid shelling out an extra $50 for overhead space (it’s both an art and science, and while I thought I had it mastered, I was recently busted pre-boarding.)
Then there’s the actual flight—the dry air, the awkwardness of waking up your too-close-for-comfort ‘neighbor’ to pee when you’re in the middle seat, etc. I always marvel at how most flight attendants manage to be so pleasant while dealing with rude passengers, sleepless nights, and endless delays (which I assume are equally as frustrating for them). How do they look so fresh and put together when all I can think about is whether or not I’m too old to lay my head down on the tray table to sleep? I am too old to be doing that, by the way.
Source: The Daily Beast
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