One of my finer quirks is my ability to sleep in almost any moving vehicle in almost any obscene position. I’ve woken up with sore necks, legs twisted and oddly stretched, and drool going places drool doesn’t normally go. Like down my cleavage because I’ve tucked my chin into my boobs while I was passed out. Anyway, the point is that on trains and automobiles, I can sleep like the dead. In fact, the best sleep that I sometimes get is in a car zooming along a highway.
Planes on the other hand? Not so much.
In fact, for whatever reason, I can’t sleep on planes no matter how hard I try. Sometimes I manage to snag a few minutes here and there, but it’s never a lot because…I have no idea. I just can’t sleep on planes. Maybe it’s the weird plane air? Maybe it’s being shoulder to shoulder with a stranger? I don’t know. It’s something though.
It’s not ideal. Especially on a 9 hour overnight flight from Vancouver to London. I mean, that’s a great time to sleep. It’s night, it’s 9 hours with nothing else to do besides watch plane movies, and everyone else is asleep. Plus this plane ride was really empty and I managed to find an empty middle row of four seats to stretch out on. My 5’9″ length fit perfectly along those seats. I’d gathered more pillows and blankets than I knew what to do with. I was drunk on vodka and Coke. Sleeping conditions were prime. There was no reason for me to pass right out.
So I did. I stretched out on my seats, snug under my blankets with my head nested in a wad of those odd mini pillows you get on planes, and I zonked right out. One minute my eyes were open, the next they were closed and I could feel myself quickly drifting off. Somewhere, I was gleefully clapping for joy because I was actually going to get some rest. I was going t-
GET TOSSED IN THE AIR BY TURBULENCE!
The plane shook, it rattled, and then it shook harder and that’s when my entire body popped up off my seats and I became airborne. I felt momentarily weightless as I got lifted in the air high enough that I saw over the top of the seats in front of me. Then I wasn’t so weightless as I slammed back down to the floor. My body just missed my seats and I became wedged between my seats and the row of seats in front of me. All over the plane several other people had gotten the same flying lessons as me, except I was the only one to wind up awkwardly slammed between seats.
As I lay there, I debating just staying on the floor. It was somewhat comfortable so there was that. Plus, with the way my body was squeezed in between the seats, there was no way for me to get another set of flying lessons so I just…stayed there. Until a flight attendant came to check on me and asked if I needed help. I didn’t and she made me get back up into my seats.
I wasn’t able to sleep after that so I spent the rest of my flight drinking, and watching Dirty Dancing, Minions, and Ice Age: The Meltdown. I didn’t get any sleep, but as my plane got closer and closer to London, I couldn’t bring myself to care. I was almost back in the UK, and almost back with the weird little family I’d left behind back in June. They wouldn’t mind if I turned up drunk and sleep deprived.