https://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2020/05/is-flying-safe-coronavirus/611335/

The cabin was restless. It was a weekday afternoon in late April, and I was among dozens of people boarding an airplane that most of us had assumed would be empty. Flight attendants were scrambling to accommodate seat-change requests. Travelers—stuffed shoulder to shoulder into two-seat rows—grumbled at one another from behind masks. An ominous announcement came over the in-flight PA system: “We apologize for the alarming amount of passengers on this flight.” Each of us was a potential vector of deadly disease.

I arrived at my assigned row, and found a stocky, gray-haired man in the seat next to mine. When I moved to sit down, he stopped me. “Sit there,” he said gruffly, pointing to the aisle behind us. “Social distance.”

Not eager for a confrontation, I decided to comply. Within seconds, though, a flight attendant materialized and ordered me back to my assigned seat. My recalcitrant would-be seatmate, vigorously objecting to this development, responded by blocking my entrance to the row with his leg.

A standoff ensued, with the irate passenger protesting that there were plenty of empty rows where I could sit (there weren’t) and the long-suffering flight attendant all but threatening to kick him off the plane (she didn’t). Finally, he relented and I squeezed awkwardly into my seat as the man muttered profanities under his breath.

Why did I think flying would be easy right now?

In the days leading up to my trip, colleagues and family members had repeatedly expressed envy. “I’m so jealous,” one co-worker told me. “Taking a flight without kids sounds like heaven,” my wife said. The travel wasn’t anything extravagant; I was going on a short reporting trip that couldn’t be rescheduled. But I understood the sentiment. Like millions of Americans, I’d been social distancing for nearly two months—cooped up at home, growing a gnarly quarantine beard, and manically wiping down groceries with Lysol. The prospect of packing a suitcase, putting on real pants, and boarding an airplane sounded like a thrilling indulgence, a grand adventure. Travel by air! Who could even imagine such a thing?



But flying during a pandemic turned out to be more stressful—and surreal—than I’d planned for. The scenes played out like a postapocalyptic movie: Paranoid travelers roamed the empty terminals in masks, eyeing one another warily as they misted themselves with disinfectant. Dystopian public-service announcements echoed through the airport—“This is a message from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention...” Even the smallest, most routine tasks—such as dealing with the touch-screen ticketing kiosk—felt infused with danger.

My trip took place in two legs, and the first was weird mostly in the ways that I’d expected. All but a few of the shops and restaurants at Washington National Airport were closed. Beverage service in the main cabin was suspended (though apparently serving ginger ale to first-class passengers was ruled epidemiologically acceptable). My first flight was so empty that the pilot warned we would experience “a very rapid acceleration for takeoff.” The plane leapt into the sky and my stomach dropped. I spent much of the flight using my baggie of Lysol wipes to scrub and re-scrub every surface within reach.

The layover at O’Hare was where my fellow travelers’ fraying nerves came more fully into view. In the restroom, men hovered over sinks like warriors returning from battle, fervently washing their hands and shooting menacing looks at anyone who got too close. At the food court, a shouting match broke out among several stressed-out strangers, and police had to intervene.

Outside the gate, passengers sat five or six seats apart, barely acknowledging one another, let alone attempting conversation. The eerie silence wore on me after a while. When my wife texted to ask how it was going, the best description I could muster was a grimacing emoji.

Flying has always been unpleasant, and rife with small indignities. It’s likely that I was more alert than usual to the agitation of those around me. But as America lurches awkwardly toward an economic “reopening” in the weeks ahead, my fraught travel experience highlighted an unwelcome truth: The glittering allure of “normalcy” that waits on the other end of these stay-at-home orders is a mirage.

Read: I have seen the future—and it’s not the life we knew

The things we miss most about our pre-pandemic lives—dine-in restaurants and recreational travel, karaoke nights and baseball games—require more than government permission to be enjoyed. These activities are predicated not only on close human contact but mutual affection and good-natured patience, on our ability to put up with one another. Governors can lift restrictions and companies can implement public-health protocols. But until we stop reflexively seeing people as viral threats, those old small pleasures we crave are likely to remain elusive.

I only had to sit next to my angry seatmate for a few minutes. Shortly after his tantrum, a flight attendant came back to our row and—after treating the man to a withering glare—informed me that I was being upgraded. I gathered my things and sheepishly made my way up the aisle while the aggrieved passenger sarcastically exclaimed, “Ooh, first class!”

As the plane ascended, I pressed my head against the window and peered down at the disappearing runway. I tried to ponder the miracle of human flight, to savor this rare privilege I was experiencing. But then an unhappy thought asserted itself: How many people have touched this window today with their filthy hands? I jerked back, and squirted some hand sanitizer onto my forehead.

i stay in shades/headphones at the airport just not really bothered by shit so none of this would bug me.

>i stay in shades/headphones at the airport just not really
>bothered by shit so none of this would bug me.

Ain’t gotta worry about listening to folks or acknowledging their existence if I don’t want to. I hate that vibe of airports so that “armor” makes it relaxing for me.

Sometimes folks ask me if I’m famous and trying to be undercover. Usually either the elderly, kids or women. I always get a kick out of that

Of this month. I’m really dreading a packed plane.

It’s an Atlanta to Jacksonville Saturday morning flight (as of now, hoping the airline doesn’t change the departure time again!) that usually should be pretty empty but I’m really fearful it will be packed.

I hope ppl are chill tho and everyone has masks on.

Best not to assume

Peace,

Spirit (Alan)
http://wutangbook.com

5 hour drive. Nobody’s going to be uber or lyfting that distance and a bus or riding in someone else’s car would pose the same risks as flying.

So yeah stop being petty and STUPID and get some business about urself. Thx

granted... I'd rather that than having to fly. But I would sure love that money in hand

Instead of these credits that expire after 1 year.

If I'm not mistaken, you just have to push for it vs. a credit.

unless it is the airline who cancels the flight.

I knew my SW would probably be credit since I booked the cheapest flight and I'd already had issues with Delta being assholes about refunds...the guy was nice enough about it

I guess that's better.
Still not ideal, but I assume I'll fly again before then so it's not likely to be wasted money

before the flight..

Said they changed seating to keep people at a distance but it’s cabin air so does that even matter?

Peace,

Spirit (Alan)
http://wutangbook.com

at this point, I'd rather lose it or see if they'll rent me a car.

But even a rented car right now give me the heebie-jeebies

reporter got upgraded when all his seat mate was trying to do was stay safe.

IMO the only thing that sucks is the dread that your flight could be canceled or a connection canceled...

If you have a layover good luck cuz 60% of the airport is closed so trying to find anything is hard.

Other than that you have a row to yourself (at worst no one in the middle seat) everyone is masked up and the procedures move pretty quickly..

Security is a breeze and yea that's it.

Shit DOES feel eerie because it's like any airport at 1 am but in daylight

https://twitter.com/ethanjweiss/status/1259165939037331456?s=21

delta airlines

they had all of the middle rows empty, I'd say ~75% of passengers had masks on (def wish they'd make it mandatory).

I normally take about 8-20 flights a year & the airport was noticeably less crowded than usual.

the food/drink service on the flight was just a prepackaged baggie with crackers & a bottle of water.

disturbing pics of some overpacked flights. glad they are finally figuring it out

Orlando International Airport - 260 positive employees out of less than 500

https://twitter.com/news6wkmg/status/1273249034581532672?s=20

https://www.sun-sentinel.com/news/politics/os-ne-coronavirus-orlando-airport-testing-desantis-20200617-ypofaadnsnarbj254vtiwivnrq-story.html

I was planning on sending this to my MIL

Had a connecting flight in Chicago coming from DFW

That flight was smooth

Had a whole row to myself

Chicago to Newark was a nightmare

Every gotdamb seat was filled

Ain't even take my mask off to drink my beverage

Think the flight was only an hour n half

Shyt seemed like 5 hours

Nobody was speaking

Just dead silence the whole flight with the occasion intercom message from the pilot and a muffled cough

I was thinking bout going out to LA next month to visit my cousin in long beach

I dont kno now
____________

DALLAS LAKERICKS LETS GO!!