The Stressful Challenges of Air Travel

So, you plan a trip outside your hometown, but your destination is far away and the only way to get there within a few or couple hours is via a plane. Unfortunately, that expedited time is barely enjoyable. There’s a reason why they can be a YKWBS episode.

You start a trip, whether it be a vacation or a big business thing and the first thing you have to do is willingly participate in a slow, expensive, germ-infested social experiment. It’s not a mode of transportation, but a gauntlet of endurance – a multi-stage test designed by people who hate all others.

The first problem is the security. It’s supposed to protect you and the staff from harm, but why is the whole process an entire guessing game? First of all, you have to take off your shoes because one guy two decades ago decided to turn his sneakers into a novelty firework (as of 2025, this is no longer mandatory since it doesn’t pose a threat anymore). So now, you have to stand in your socks, feeling the cold, sticky floor that thousands of others have trodden on, while a guy in front of you acts completely shocked that their backpack full of energy drinks and a jar of homemade pickles needs extra screening.

Another rule I want to mention is the liquids rule. You can’t carry more than three ounces of it. They’ll think your full-sized shampoo is a weapon of mass destruction. Nevertheless, you can still buy a $50 five-ounce bottle of whiskey from the duty-free shops after you clear security. What is the cutoff? Is it based on volume or the arbitrary price they decide to charge you after you get through their little checkpoint? They force you to buy overpriced mini-toothpaste that won’t last a weekend trip, all so they can make you feel like a criminal who might try to sneak a bomb disguised as a full-size bottle of moisturizer.

Once you get through the strip search, you make it to the gate, and there’s another challenge: gate lice. These self-important barnacles are clinging to the boarding door like it’s the last lifeboat. The gate agent hasn’t even started the announcement, the plane hasn’t even landed, but they’re already there, blocking the path, giving you the stink eye if you dare walk past their sacred square of linoleum. The reason – your seat is assigned. You have a ticket that says F-23, so no amount of aggressive loitering is going to turn into a first-class pod.

Then the boarding. The first group is the pre-boarded military veterans and those who paid an extra $60 to sit one row ahead. You wait for your group, you get in line, and then you see line-cutting ninjas. They wait until the absolute last second and then dart past the entire line, mumbling, “I’m just getting to my gate.” That location is coincidentally right at the front of your line. They have zero shame and the reason we can’t have nice things like an orderly, civilized exit from the waiting area.

As you get on the plane, you’ll be stuck in a sky cage that is called ‘economy.’ It’s basically sardine class with less oxygen. These seats will just get smaller and smaller with the legroom being a myth. It’s like they measure the space using a toddler and then subtract 12.5 centimeters (5 inches). Your knees are like playing bumper cars with the tray table of the person in front of you.

Don’t even get me started on the recliner. The person in front of you is some obvious, neck-pillow-wearing simpleton that slams the button the second you hit cruising altitude. Your workspace becomes a 10-centimeter (4-inch) gap. Your drink vibrates and if you try to open your laptop, you’re performing an aerial yoga pose just to see the screen. It’s an act of war – they know they’re doing it. They know they’re turning your already miserable flight into a humanoid Tetris game and they don’t care. They are the villains of the sky.

Another problem is the armrests. Why are there only two? Why do they make them wide enough for one butt cheek, but too narrow for two full arms? You’ll be locked in a territorial battle with your neighbor for the entire flight. Do you let your elbow touch theirs and risk a conversational obligation, or do you awkwardly hold your arm like a startled flamingo for the whole flight!?

And the biggest elephant in the room – babies, toddlers, and preschoolers. This is every passenger’s worst enemy. If you see any of them before you actually board, good luck because they are almost guaranteed to throw a temper tantrum the entire flight. They’ll always be seated in the same section or even near you. It gets even worse when there’s more than one involved. Don’t even get me started on them sneezing or coughing everywhere.

It can all be BS from the $2 bottles of water you had to chug before security, the gate lice, the shrinking seats, the reclining seat monster, and those screaming babies, toddlers, and preschoolers. The one you expect is getting on the plane, sitting down, and getting to your destination without having to fight another person over 15 square centimeters (6 square inches) of armrest. The ultimate BS is doing this again instead of doing a two-day drive.