Last night I had a dream that I jumped out of an airplane.
It’s like my brain doesn’t know me AT ALL.
Because I would never jump out of an airplane. Unless it was safely parked on the ground at the time. And Justin Timberlake was there to catch me. Then and only then would I jump.
Here’s where the dream gets worse. I was wearing an orange jumpsuit. Orange. I’m sorry, but orange looks good on NO ONE. That’s why prisoners wear it. It’s the government’s way of kicking a man when he’s down. I imagine when a person gets in trouble for something and is facing jail time, his lawyer sits him down and says, “Here’s the deal, you’re looking at 5-10… AND…you’re going to have to wear the orange jumpsuit.”
The man then breaks down, lays his head on the table and cries out, “Why? Why? Why orange? Doesn’t anyone love me?”
Dude, the answer is Yes. God loves you. But he also thinks the color orange is funny. Sorry.
Anyway, where was I?
Oh yeah. Me and jumping out of airplanes.
I was saying I would never do this–not even if my life depended on it. Look, I’ll barely GET on an airplane that’s about to fly me somewhere, much less let someone open the door while it’s hovering 10,000 feet above and strap a parachute to my back (probably packed by a 21 year old professional pot smoker who needed a summer job so he could afford to finally get the new Guitar Hero game–no thank you) and motion for me to jump. I mean, have you just MET ME?
I try not to focus too much on the fact that airplanes are big and weigh a lot. And that’s without adding people and luggage. Because I tend to think there’s no way this thing is getting off the ground. Oh god, and if the passengers on the plane are particularly larger my mind goes into overdrive. And I totally judge people who bring too much luggage. What are you trying to do lady, kill us all???
It’s like the time Tommy and I went to New Zealand. In case you didn’t know this, New Zealand is way the fuck on the other side of the world. And the flight is even longer. Because it’s so far away, the plane to get you there is the size of a hotel–two stories big. As we made it to our seats I looked at Tommy with worry on my face.
“What is it?” he asked.
“This plane. It’s so massive. There’s absolutely no way it’s getting off the ground. And that guy over there–he’s gotta be at least 600 pounds. He’s certainly not going to help our cause.”
“Shauna, don’t be ridiculous. This plane gets off the ground every day. And stop pointing at that man. It’s embarrassing.”
Just then the flight attendant walked by. I yelled out, “Excuse me, ma’am. Are you SURE this plane will be able to take off without crashing into the runway?”
The passengers sitting around us stopped what they’re doing and looked at me. Thinking what? That I might have some inside information? Looking back, it probably wasn’t the smartest idea to say the word “crash” in front of the other passengers.
Oh well. Too late now.
The flight attendant calmly said, “I’ve been flying on this plane for the last 5 years and we’ve never not been able to get off the ground. Enjoy the flight.”
Which I think was airline talk for Shut The Fuck Up Lady. No Peanuts For You.
Oddly enough we made it safely to New Zealand AND back.
Weird.
Anyway all I’m trying to say is that I would never jump out of an airplane and certainly not while wearing orange.
The End.
{ 12 comments… read them below or add one }
Just be glad you didn’t have this guy sitting next to you all the way to New Zealand!
http://failblog.org/2009/11/25/seating-comfort-fail/
I can’t believe she told you to shut the fuck up. Those weren’t her words, but we all know that’s exactly what she meant. That’s when I say, “Oh, thanks,” which actually means, “you’re a slut and I hate you.”
Maybe it was all a metaphor. What it was for, I don’t have any idea.
your blond roots are showing
have you heard the joke about the two southern belles sitting on the porch of the plantation? basically, one is bragging to the other about how her husband bought her this and that, all while the other is saying “well, isn’t that nice?” finally, after saying it about 5 times, the bragger asks “is that all you have to say?” the other says “well, while your husband was buying all these things for you, i was in finishing school and they taught me one thing – to say “well, isn’t that nice” instead of “fuck you.”
i’ve learned to say say “well, isn’t that nice” a lot!
I will not jump out of a plane precisely for the reason that who knows who manufactured the parachute and packed it. Probably someone who makes minimum wage. It’s why I won’t ride rollercoasters either.
Too bad you are unwilling to jump out of a perfectly good plane. It is the thrill of a lifetime..oh and you are attached to a professional these days..no one does a solo jump the first time out.
Oh, thank you for the giggles. You made me laugh out loud at least 3 times, and for that I am truly grateful.
It’s amazing, isn’t it? A plane weighs like a zillion pounds and FLIES through the air. Flies. Without flapping it’s wings. They just sit there. Amazing.
I know that New Zealand is a gazillion miles away, because I was born in Australia (that big island beside New Zealand) and now live in England. So flying back home takes a whole day. More than a day. It’s like a 24 hour flight if you go via Singapore, and 26 if you go via LA.
And in 2 weeks I am doing that trip with my 2 girls (and not my hubby) and it’s going to be in one of those new EXTRA big planes.
I can’t see HOW the damn thing is going to fly. It’s got wings the size of fried chicken wings and a belly the size of Canada. Surely there is no way it’s going to get off the ground!
I gotta say. This line had me in tears. Just. Awesome.
Which I think was airline talk for Shut The Fuck Up Lady. No Peanuts For You.
Ok now.
“If this were my dream” and I was on vacation w/ my family I’d say that the dream’s deep, underlying meaning was about trying to escape the familial madness. But that’s just me….