I must say, being able to walk around an airplane while it is IN AIR, but not being afforded the same privilege while ON THE GROUND sort of, well, really fucking baffles me. However, apparently there are rules while on a plane, and it appears that I managed to break one, or a few… So, I present to you: The Time I Broke An FAA Flight Regulation:
I posted something to my Facebook page mentioning that my biggest fear about flying was being hit with explosive diarrhea on an airplane. What do you do? Where do you go? What if there’s a line?
Many of you commented with some REALLY helpful advice. Imodium AD seems to be where it’s at.
However, the thing is: I already knew that.
I take Imodium AD with me wherever I go. It is always in my purse. I’ve had some pretty heinous things happen in some pretty peculiar places, so I am always prepared.
However, what I failed to remember is that explosive diarrhea can hit at the most inopportune times, and Imodium AD can take a while to go into effect. So, taking it even when you don’t think you’ll need it, however, maybe/possibly/definitely MIGHT need it is a really great idea.
I wish I would have remembered/thought of that…
I flew back home to San Diego from Baltimore on June 8th at the crack of dawn; literally, it was 4:00AM. My flight didn’t leave until 7:20AM and I had some time to kill once I got the the airport. I decided that a neck massage was in order. The neck massage provided some much needed relaxation, and the relaxation prompted an urge for breakfast.
As I was walking out of the airport massage parlor (I know, how fucking awesome is that, right?), I saw the Golden Arches. Now, let it be known, I am not a fan of McDonald’s but I had scarfed down two of their chicken wraps and a small fry while in Baltimore, so I figured “What’s one more meal!?”
Two Words: BAD IDEA
I inhaled an Egg McMuffin and hash brown and washed it all down with a nice coffee; a McDonald’s coffee. If you learn ONE THING in life, it should be that McDonald’s coffee is an immediate recipe for the runs.
I boarded my plane and landed to the row I was to be sitting in. Of course, my five hour flight had me smack dab in the middle. My two flight-companions were already taking up both arm rests. I was exhausted and wanted to take a damn nap.
I decided to wait until the plane was in the air and found myself another seat to crash in that was against the window and fell asleep for a few hours. I awoke to the captain on the loudspeaker letting us know that we would be landing momentarily. I went back to my original seat for landing so I had access to all my crap in the overhead bin.
The landing went as any normal plane touching ground, however, we were early so our gate wasn’t quite ready for us. Normally, this wouldn’t have been a big deal—however, I could hear my stomach rumbling. Like….I could hear forty-seven evil McMuffin’s knocking on my intestines with sledgehammers and screaming at me to get up and RUN to the bathroom.
But, I couldn’t. I couldn’t move. Even the flight attendants were seated and safely buckled. I said a quick prayer and asked for this feeling to hit me in about 15 minutes once I had access to the bathroom in the terminal, but no, God didn’t hear me fast enough. Maybe there was someone else on the plane praying for the same thing that he was tending to? I’m not sure, but I know this was one prayer that He didn’t have time to tend to fast enough.
I looked to the lady at my left and asked her if she thought I could get up to use the bathroom. We were just SITTING THERE.
As the words “No, I don’t think you can..” fell out of her mouth, I was already unbuckled and RUNNING to the back of the plane.
The flight attendant, safely buckled in her seat, started screaming at me: “MA’AM!!! We are not to our gate! You have to sit back down!”
I screamed back: “I WILL BE SITTING DOWN IN ABOUT ONE SECOND! I HAVE TO GO TO THE BATHROOM.’
As she was yelling “YOU CAN’T!! WE ARE NOT AT THE GATE…MA’AM!!..MA’AM!!!!!” I was already locked in the lavatory.
I stayed in there for about 8 minutes and dry-swallowed two Imodium AD’s and two Pepto Bismol tablets. I could feel the plane start to move and once my stomach felt like it was no longer imploding, I tried to map-out my escape plan. The thing was, I didn’t have one.
I envisioned all the movies I’ve seen where people escape via the toilet on an airplane. I took a look at the toilet and realized there was no fucking way that was happening. I looked up, I looked down, but the only way out was the door that my kneecaps were hitting in the 2X2 bathroom I was trapped in.
I sheepishly opened the door and was quickly yelled at again by ANOTHER flight attendant to “sit down immediately!” They made me sit in the very last row with these two kids who were flying alone. I climbed over them and their Gameboys—or whatever the 2015 Gameboy equivalent is and tried to figure out if I could dive out of the plane window. (You can’t by the way—I really looked into it. I think they are double plated)
As soon as the “unbuckle” light came on, I bolted back to my original seat, grabbed my bag in the overhead bin and ducked my head as I waited in line to get off the plane. I looked NO ONE in the eye and pretended to be a ninja. I was just waiting for someone to stop me at the exit of the aircraft with handcuffs. No one was there when I exited, so I ran. I ran like hell to the nearest bathroom and hid in a stall for fifteen minutes hoping they had forgotten about me and by law-breaking ways.
I managed to make it to my next gate, and sure enough, there were no cops, nor Airport Security waiting for me there, either. I had made it without being arrested. My stomach was feeling much better as the Imodium and Pepto had settled in and just at that time, I looked up, and just as I did a few hours earlier, saw the golden arches.
I thought to myself: “Wow a coffee sure sounds great!”
And then I kicked myself in the head, bought a water, and got on the last leg on my flight back to San Diego.
Word to the wise: Take Imodium AD BEFORE getting on any airplanes, boats, busses, or anything that moves that has limited bathrooms, or strict bathroom rules.
This post was not sponsored by Imodium AD; this post was sponsored by Ashley Alteman. You can thank her for her words of wisdom by clicking the brown button below–and no, there is no pun intended, but you are free to laugh.