Air travel.
I can appreciate the invention of the airplane, the discovery of flight and the astonishing capabilities of transcontinental air travel. Really, I can.
Even though my fundamental understanding of all that is mechanically aerodynamic can barely navigate about the blueprints of a paper airplane, the concept of the airplane as a means for travel remains brilliant—the execution and efficiency of said travel, not so much. However, my intent is not to analyze the imprudent, conspiratorial abuse that the airlines so ardently bestow upon us as Americans. I know you’re disappointed and I truly apologize—although said analysis is on its way.
Instead I would like to address a specific perquisite, an aroma if you will, related to airline travel:
Feet.
For those who have traveled via overpriced, overbooked airline, I would dare say that many would perhaps agree that the best word to describe the eternal funk and stink that one encounters whilst encapsulated at 30,000 feet in a pressurized fuselage—whose custodial maintenance by they way is in a perpetual state of bacteriostatic denial—is feet.
Recently, on USAir flights out of Philadelphia and LaGuardia I was suddenly overcome by the stagnant, overwhelmingly cheesy stench of feet; of athletic jock feet, pantyhose feet, 15-hour work day feet, Frito Lays Corn Chip feet, airport layover feet, geriatric feet, pediatric feet, toddler and tween feet, the what’s this between my toes feet, frat boy feet, flip-flop feet, hammer-toed feet, corned feet, internationally jetlagged feet, hot foot puddle feet, barefoot sneaker feet, the corked Martha Betti side buckle clog feet, clubbed feet, pigeon toed feet, webbed toe feet, hairy toed feet, waxed feet, vacation feet, honeymoon feet, armed forces feet, I only own two pairs of socks feet, gnarly feet, fancy pedicure feet, fat feet, bony anorexic feet, calloused feet, planters wart feet, get off my feet feet, hippy feet, rules aren’t made for me feet, what the fuck did I step in feet, dime bag in my sneaker feet, spoiled Heiress traveling the world and her miniature Chihuahua’s feet, blistered theme park feet, the sweaty aerophobic, aviatophobic, pteromerhanophobic fear of flying feet, dry flaking psoriasis feet, diabetic feet, arthritic feet, bloated airport buffet feet, dancer feet, professional, blue collar, student, unemployed and disabled feet, the I just ate garlic pasta feet, the booze is seeping from my pores alcoholic feet, the airport pre-party feet, the feet that know no bounds feet, bound feet, tattooed feet, bedazzled feet and finally those feet that are literally on the cusp of becoming bona fide six feet under feet in the very near future.
I’m just sayin, the entire cabin reeks of feet. In fact, it’s nauseating. I realize within the aircraft carpeting resides a literal foot fungal metropolis o funk—a virtual rhinovirus retreat—but can’t the airline somehow make an effort to address the stink, as clearly the removal of nonsensical airport carpeting isn’t on the list of things to do any time soon.
The airline's solution:
The mechanical engineers who are familiar with the intricacies, specifications and challenges of providing comfort within the confines of a speeding, gleaming suppository in the sky (because let’s face it, the airlines are always shoving some sort of hassle up your ass) created and subsequently affixed a user friendly, finger-fondled mechanism above the head of each and every weary passenger, which somehow allows said passenger to individually manipulate the mechanism at their leisure in an effort to somehow re-route, re-circulate, waft and/or blow the offensive hoof smog directly back into one’s own face.
It’s utter brilliance. Probably the same wise guys who chose carpeting as a viable option for aircraft floor decor in the first place.
In addition, I am not yet physically capable of effectively describing and/or expressing the visceral repulsion I have experienced regarding this lil' $613 round trip gem without literally gagging.
<---$613 Lil Gem In the interim, I invite you all to create a caption for this photo, as the pre-board sweep failed to somehow tactfully remedy this situation.
jenji
