No. 4 Tinkle: The Toilet of a Delta Plane
If hell consists of reliving one’s most unpleasant memory for all eternity, then mine would be spent in an unending loop on an overseas flight that never lands. Everyone around me would succumb to the soporific effect of the recycled air, the bad box wine and dull lighting, while I would be awake for all time. Watching them snore. Grossing out at the drool. Aching from uncomfortable positions.
Always, this is my story on overseas flights. MTM sleeps. I fidget and sigh and curse and wiggle. My extremities are capable of sleep, but the pinpricks in my foot, my hand, my entire side jar me from a doze.
Every. Time.
On a Thanksgiving flight to Stuttgart, Germany, I was determined to break the cycle of miserable sleeplessness that became my seat mate on every plane. A friend loaned me some bootleg Ambien, a prescription sleeping aid, and I was determined to down two glasses of box-o-wine and take the whole pill. If that combination didn’t knock me out on the flight, nothing would.
Beams of sunlight burst through my window and nudged me awake. I was in the same position I remembered settling into hours before, my head resting on the side wall of the plane, my pillow still cradling it. With a sigh and a lazy stretch of my arms overhead, I eyed the approaching breakfast cart with ravenous abandon.
I took one of everything and munched like I’d never seen food in my life. Nothing seemed to sate my hunger that was akin to coming down from some perverse high.
Just as the wheels screeched on the tarmac, my stomach grumbled. Maybe I just ate too fast I thought to myself as a cold sweat broke out all over my body and the first twinge of nausea turned my esophagus sideways. Leaning into MTM’s steady arm, I tried to smile, but instead I gave him a witchy grimace. As the plane taxied into the gate, I said, “LetmeoutletmeoutLETMEOUT!!!”
Half the population of the plane was crammed into aisle, but nobody was moving. Tapping people and motioning with one hand while I kept the other one firmly clamped to my trap didn’t convey the necessary urgency. Pleasepleaseplease open the door AND DON’T LET ME HURL ON THE PERSON NEXT TO ME. The seal broke on the door of the plane just as I could no longer hold it. Pushing through bodies, I didn’t get the restroom closed before I was sick, but I didn’t care. It was right where I needed it to be.
And, I would never see any of those people again.
This post is part of the series My Top 10 Tinkles. If this is your first visit to this urinary extravaganza, please click here to start the series at the beginning. Thank you for reading my blog, for sharing it, and for spending time here.
That ain’t tinkling, that ralphing! Doesn’t count. Do over!!
I tinkled, too.
OK, then maybe we will let you keep it.
Thank you.
I am sorry. I had to laugh a little bit. Very nice story
It is even funny to me now.
BLEECCCHH!!
It was bleeccchh!!
Oh, dear! Not a good memory.
I do not like using the bathrooms in airplanes. I don’t have a fear of flying, you see, but I do have one of getting sucked into one of those flying compartments and having to be surgically removed. Sigh.
I don’t like using them, either, Penny, but that time was a must. I never thought about getting sucked in there. I guess the flush is pretty powerful, though. I always close the lid before I do it.
Oh my. I’m so very thankful this has never happened to me, and so very sorry it happened to you. I can say I’ve never used an onflight restroom. Nope, not even on the 11 hour flight from Ireland to New York, then again I have a strict no airplane food policy.
Maybe if I had a strict no airplane food policy, this wouldn’t have happened. I got through customs and had another bout and then felt abominable the rest of the day. Great way to start a trip.
Well, I always wondered what the antonym for the Mile High Club was…you found it. So sorry.
Ha. I never thought about it that way, Robert. You have to be right.
Ahh, memories….
12-31-76–roughly four hours until the end of the year–steaming through the Caribbean toward the next day’s port du jour, dressed in New Year’s Eve finery, on our honeymoon cruise. Too queasy to eat dinner (I’d not felt particularly well most of the day), I excused myself from the dining room to wait for my new hubby and our dining companions in the adjacent lounge. All might have been fine, but that one well-meaning table mate insisted I should have a whopping dose of Pepto Bismol (“We never travel without it”) and I, like a fool, complied, That big swig no more than reached bottom when it did a u-turn and headed back from whence it came. We were half the ship’s length and three decks above our cabin, so the nearest ladies room was the best that I could hope for, and when I got there the single stall was occupied!! I have no clue where that gal washed her hands . . .
Oh, Karen, that’s awful. Pepto always makes my stomach feel worse, too. I’m glad you found some place to deposit your load.
It WAS awful….at the time, at least…..and I was mortified. The worst though was that I felt no better afterward, and spent my New Year’s Eve trying to sleep it off, instead of dancing the night away as planned.
Oh, no! I’m glad you made it, how appalling it would have been if you hadn’t.
That’s a great picture — where is that?
Luxembourg. One of the most dramatic places I’ve ever been. Well worth a visit.
I learned a LONG time ago that if I am flying to MAKE SURE that I take care of mother nature BEFORE I get on the plane. The lavatories in those airframes are built to accommodate TINY people…. Need I say more? LOL
They are really small.
What a horrid experience. My sister in law regaled us with a tale of an airline passenger on the red-eye flight from LA to CLT who had disappeared into the lav where he remained for an exceedingly long time. The fact that he looked of Mediterranean descent gave her and the air marshals a pause or two. Finally the forced the door and there stood the the poor man sans trou, sick, sick and w/o any clean clothes. And my sister in law was right there to see/experience it all as her seat was in adjacent to the loo. So, sometimes what happens in the loo should
Oh Cheryl, that’s horrible. I feel so sorry for him even now, because I know what that is like. Dreadful. I hope everything worked out for him.
My sister in law said that the flight attendants found his bags, found some clothing for him, but not trousers. I think it was one of the worst situations one could be in as a traveler (other than stranded, dead, or robbed.)
Makes me realize that putting an extra change of clothes in the carry on is mandatory for more than the reason of being stranded overnight.
I agree with Michael–that’s no tinkle! Goodness–that had to be awful though.
Sorry to have been away all week. I have a piss-poor excuse–called life. (Couldn’t help myself.) I’ve missed the series except for the first. Will catch up.
I still believe this is the most hilarious idea for a series of posts. Congrats on coming up wth it.
Hugs,
Kathy
I hope everything is okay, Kathy. Life happens to the best of us. Your latest post is in my reading queue.
It has been fun (for the most part) to relive these places through the portal of the toilet.
What an awful experience, Andra! Of course I’m glad you didn’t lapse into a coma with Ambien and wine!
You’ve had some embarrassing moments in your life, haven’t you? But good news…yes, you never had to see those people again! Debra
More stupid than embarrassing, I’m afraid. But, I panic much less than I used to when I will never see the people again. Who cares what they think anyway?
Airlines? Ick. ISUA rating minus 4 stars.
It was there when it needed to be, and that made this list.
Whoa, from the sublime to the nightmarish…I guess it’s good to know those little cubicles are there for us, even on a plane…
They aren’t the greatest, but I was glad that one was there. Hope your day hasn’t been horrid, Kate. Here’s another hug before you go to sleep. xo
This is the second potty that rabks for being right where your gorge needed it to be!!
I know. Some of them are memorable simply because of the right place/right time thing.
And again: Gak!
This series is cracking me up, though I do feel a little bad giggling at your misfortunes.
If we can’t laugh at our own stupidity, then there’s no hope for us.
Ook!
Andra, if I’d have been in that queue of people – well, I wouldn’t have been, I’d have moved quickly out of your way! Luckily it ended well…
After a day passed, it ended, and I was very grateful, Tom. I’m glad you weren’t in the queue.
Not good having to spew from two spots. I feel your pain.
I was turned off of pepperoni pizza for years due to an unfortunate incident similar to this. oh boy!
I am my own worst inducer of the unfortunate, I’m afraid. Pepperoni pizza is quite a thing to be put off of. I hope you enjoy it today.
It took me a solid 10 years to get back to pepperoni. It was my favorite at the time, but I ate it too fast, you know.