Fasten Your Seat belts – 5 Most Annoying Plane Passengers

We all do it. Whether it’s for work or play, we all get on a plane once in a while and travel from ‘here to there’. And we all have our own little travel habits and things that particularly irritate or even enrage us when we’re hurling across the skies at 40,000 feet.

Living in two parts of the world divided by a big ass ocean means Peter and I have to get on a transatlantic flight at least a few times a year. And I can tell you, it’s not fun.

My first transatlantic flight

I remember the first time I flew across the Atlantic. I was traveling with my sister and about 100 other fellow members of a city band I was in called, The Beefeaters. We were flying to England to perform for the Queen’s Silver Jubilee at Earl’s Court in London (I’m really dating myself). I was only 13 and nervous about being away from home for two months, never mind strapping myself into a jumbo jet for the first time. 

My sister Christina was no better. We were clinging to each other at the airport, both out of fear and excitement. My Dad took us aside and said, with a straight face I might add, “Don’t forget, it’s really important that you lift both your feet off the ground at takeoff. Otherwise, that big plane won’t get off the ground.” He’d done it. He’d given us something to take our minds off the panic.

The moment arrived. The engines were in full roar when I grabbed Chris’s hand and said, “Now!! Lift your feet up!!” And we did. My head turned to hers, our smiles as big as any I can remember. We lifted our knees up to our chests and held them there, our hands tightly clasped, until we felt the unmistakably pull of the wheels leaving the ground.

I don’t remember the rest of that first flight but I will never forget that moment. I don’t know if it brought a smile to any of the passengers around us but it still does to me today.  I still get excited when the plane is about to take off. I know I am finally on my way to where I want to go, usually after much planning and waiting for the departure date. But there’s no question that air travel isn’t what it used to be.

Yes, heightened airport security and screening have slowed things down and occasionally bordered on harassment (that’s another story) but we understand the need for these measures. Safety first. But once we’ve made our way to the gate, onto the plane, and finally sit down at our designated seats, it’s what often happens next that can turn any smile upside down faster than you can say, “Cabin crew, ready for takeoff”.

Five annoying plane passengers

1. The Party Pooper

I know this one happens to everyone, whether you want to admit it or not.  It goes something like this. You’ve finally settled into your seat and remarkably, there is an empty seat beside you. You sigh with delight and place your belongings on the seat instead of the pocket in front of you. This is to lay claim. A way of saying, “Yes, this seat is taken.” In case anyone has the nerve to try to move on in. 

You’re feeling smug and settled, maybe a bit anxious too. You’re waiting for the announcement that ‘boarding is complete’. Only then will you be home free, able to spread out as the long travel hours stretch ahead of you.

Then it happens…the arrival of that one late person. The one who is huffing and puffing and knocking their hand baggage against everyone as they rush down the aisle, eyes darting side-to-side looking at the row numbers.

You hold your breath.

You offer a silent prayer that includes several promises of change if only this person does NOT take the empty seat next to you. But you know what happens next, don’t you? Of course they do!! Despite the fact that half the plane is empty, the lumbering latecomer plumps himself or herself in ‘your’ seat. Usually with a condescending, ‘Would you mind moving your things please?” Hell yes, I do mind.

2. The Smelly Neighbor

You know the one.  The one who hasn’t bathed in a week or has poured enough perfume on their entire body to fill a bathtub. Or who decided that having garlic bread for lunch directly before boarding the plane was a good idea. That person.

Regrettably, I will never forget my encounter with the smelliest man. We had finally boarded our KLM flight from Toronto to Rome after a 4-hour delay. Needless to say, we were tired and my nerves were a bit frayed. As is usual, Peter takes the window seat as he’s an easy sleeper and I am not. This leaves me in the middle if we are not able to secure a two-seat configuration. Which on this ill-fated flight, we were not. 

I was fanning myself with a magazine since the air vents were mysteriously shut off and praying I would not have to deal with a Party Pooper (see above) when sure enough, I saw him coming.

Now please don’t comment saying I’m discriminating against large people because I’m not. It’s just that size does matter on an airplane when the seats are less then two feet wide and you are in the middle. Trust me. 

So while I am watching this very large man make his way down the aisle, I am offering my own silent prayer (see above) that he does not sit next to me. But of course he does. Not only does he sit next to me, he spills over into my seat. I am literally squished between Peter and my new neighbor. 

It’s worth noting, he is wearing shorts so that his hairy leg is brushing against my smooth one (I was wearing a skirt). And he is wearing a wife-beater shirt.  Yes, those awful sleeveless t-shirts that men think show off their biceps. My neighbor didn’t have any. But he did have extremely hairy armpits. I know this because as soon as he sat down he put his hands behind his head in an elaborate stretch and my nose was right in said hairy armpit.

 I didn’t need to be this close to register his awful body odor. I could detect it long before he arrived at his seat. It was so overpowering that I started to gag and requested he put him arms down.

 At that moment, the flight attendant asked to speak to me. I followed her to the back of the plane. She said, “I am so sorry. The smell is terrible. I wish I could move you but the plane is full. I just want to let you now we tried.” So there I was with 9 hours ahead of me, seated next to the Smelly Man.

Please for the love of God, take a shower, ditch the perfume and eat a breath mint before you get on a plane.

3. The Flatulator

aka: a person who flatulates

This one is somewhat related to the Smelly Neighbor since it involves unpleasant body odors. Only in this case, it’s flatulence at 40,000 feet.  When someone ‘lets one go’, there is no escaping it when you are locked in a cylinder tube. Especially with your fellow passengers beside, behind and in front of you at incredibly close proximity. When it happens, nobody looks around to find the guilty party. They act like it didn’t happen and hope that the crappy recycled airflow system will suck up the awful odor tout suite.

But what if you are in the unfortunate position to sit beside, or in our case, behind a repeat-offender?

Another transatlantic flight:  a different nightmare. This time, it was someone in the row in front of us, letting off what can only be described as atomic silent sulfur bombs every ten minutes. Yes, you read that correctly. Literally every 10 minutes, (I timed them during the entire 9 hour flight), he/she let one off. And it was so bad that I had to take a pillow and breath into it until the horrendous smell passed.  Not once did anyone turn around, apologize or seem fazed that they subjected us to this. So we never knew who it was. But you know who you are.

4. The Groomer

Air travel is designed to get you from one place to another. It is not your bathroom, hair salon or spa. So why do so many people treat it as such? I recently read a story about a woman who whipped off her socks and clipped all her toenails on a flight. She hung her leg over the aisle and snipped away, leaving bits of nail all over the carpet.

Apparently, fellow passengers were horrified but nobody said anything to her. Not sure what it is about being locked up with strangers for hours that makes us unable to find our voice. If I’d been her neighbor, I most certainly would have suggested she take her personal grooming elsewhere.

This goes for applying nail polish, going barefoot (do you any idea of the germs your exposed feet pick up on a plane?) and deciding to while the hours away by experimenting with new hairstyles. And speaking of hair, if you have a long ponytail, keep it on your side of the seat where it belongs.

Another transatlantic offender had a waist length ponytail she kept flicking over to my side of the seat. The messy mane literally hung over my table. I would lift it up and swing it back to its owner only to have it migrate back to me. Please, keep your feet, hands and hair to yourself.

5. The Talker

I saved this one for last but in some ways it is the most annoying of all.  Beyond the initial, “How are you?” and “Have a nice flight”, why do some people feel the need to download all of their personal history onto a complete stranger who happens to be sitting beside them on a plane?

I know that some people enjoy banter in the air and if you are one of them, God bless you. But I don’t. Air travel for me is a time to check out of earthly problems, to read a book, watch a movie and just ‘be’. I like the feeling of being unreachable in this age of mobile phones and social media. I like the alone time. The feeling of being in no man’s land, caught between ‘here’ and ‘there’.

 I think it’s pretty easy for an even a not-so perceptive person to figure out who wants to talk and who doesn’t. So why do some people persist? Even when they hear you clear your throat and very deliberately pick up your book and snap it open? That’s the signal for, “Please stop talking or find someone else to talk to.” I don’t want to be rude. I just want to be left alone on a plane. Enough said.

Yes, air travel isn’t as much fun as it used to be. Yet every time I arrive at an airport ready for my next adventure, there’s still that flicker of excitement. That same flame ignited all those years ago by a father trying to alleviate the anxiety of his daughter about to board her first transatlantic flight.

It still burns. It’s still alive.

A presto

Anna