There may be more uncomfortable things in this world than airplane seats, but frankly, I can't think of many. Certainly not right now.
It's 2am, and I'm experimenting with different ways to place a laptop word processor so that I can both type and not drill small holes in my legs with the LRF option. (That's Little Rubber Feet, for those of you who are not vicious enough to go into a computer store and ask if this new laptop has the latest in LRF.)
It would be okay if the idiot in the seat in front of me hadn't leaned his chair back. However, he did, and deprived me of roughly four inches of what appears to be utterly essential room for actual comfort in typing. I can't put my laptop on the tray in front of me, because the screen actually falls down onto my fingers.
I don't need to be able to see to type, but I do need to be able to move my fingers.
I wrote a thousand words with the LRF digging into my legs. I now have small round circles imprinted on my thighs: the down side to wearing shorts on an airplane trip, apparently. That grew painful, and I've now switched the damned thing around so that the keyboard is sort of resting against my tummy while I read the screen. Both halves of the laptop are at approximately forty-five degrees.
This will probably do for another thousand words or so, although it's not terribly comfortable, either. I may be forced to try to sleep when I'm done with this, simply so I don't have to try to come up with another configuration.
Unfortunately, I've never been very good at sleeping in moving vehicles. Planes count. I suspect most of the problem is that, well, it's horribly uncomfortable trying to sleep in a chair around 15 inches wide, with two people propped up uncomfortably on either side of you.
Well, okay, there's only one person on either side of me. Don't get technical.
Can't sleep in cars, either. Same principle. Not enough room to stretch out. I've slept in one train, but then, I'd been up for 3 days, so I don't think that counts. I haven't slept on the other trains I've ridden on.
Ooooh! Turbulence! I'm a great fan of turbulence. I was telling Ted earlier that I think I have this terribly fatalistic viewpoint when it comes to planes. I get on. It takes off. It is utterly beyond my control. If it falls out of the sky, I can't do a damned thing about it. If I survive the crash, I assume I have the resources necessary to continue to survive until somebody comes and collects my sorry ass.
And so I enjoy turbulence. What the hell. May as well have a good time on the ride down.
I used to really bother a roommate of mine, who was not a fan of flying, by quoting Gary Larson's Far Side cartoons while in the airport.
Pilot to co-pilot:
"Gee, what's a mountain goat doing way up here in these clouds?"
Pilot to co-pilot:
"What a coincidence, that we would .both. lose a contact at the same time!"
Pilot over the intercom system, while yanking the controls back and forth and all around:
"Uh-oh! Looks like MOOOOOOOORE turbulence!"
Or the infamous story related by Bobcat Goldthwait on one of his albums:
"I was flying out to do this performance, and there I was in first class, and I noticed the pilot and co-pilot's hats and jackets hanging there. I grabbed them, gave the co-pilot's stuff to my producer, and said, 'Here, put this on, and then follow me.'"
Goldthwait put on the pilot's jacket, and the producer put on the copilot's jacket, and Goldthwait walked back into the coach section of the plane. The producer followed him. Goldthwait then turned around, and, in horror, yelled out, "My god! I thought YOU were flying the plane!"
The airline didn't let him back on.
I wish I'd thought of it. I guess that's why he's the professional comedian.
Ah. Ted and I have just learned that not only is this flight cram-packed full of people, but they also have no pillows or blankets available.
On a red-eye flight. Are they fucking stupid?
Or does that go without saying?
My butt has now fallen asleep. Were it not for the fact that it's well nigh impossible to get out of this chair, I wouldn't be much bothered by my butt falling asleep. However, to my right I have Ted and the window of the airplane, and to my left, a sleeping man with his hat on his tray. Crawling over him would require, at the least, smooshing his hat.
And it's actually a rather nice hat. A fedora, green-brown, with a brown leather band. I don't see a red feather on it, though. A pity.
Hell, even if I could shift some more, it wouldn't be so bad. However, this seat has been carefully dug out in the middle, so there's a hole that I sort of sink down into, and if I try to push out of it, I end up in a really hard ridge. That's not an improvement.
And people say the Wright brothers were geniuses. Hah. Nobody ever put them on a Continental Airlines red-eye flight in coach class, obviously.
Of course, if I had them available, I wouldn't either. I'd probably put them in Air Force One, or something, to prove to them what geniuses they were. They'd never know that the rest of the world was suffering in 15 inch pot-bellied seats. Or would that be sway-backed? I'm not sure. Either way, it ain't comfortable.
I'm starting to get LRF marks again. I'm thinking it's time to experiment once more in my ongoing quest to find out how many red-eye flights I can stay awake through.
G'night.