pee

I Have To Pee!

November 25, 2011

in Passenger Stories

A few months ago, I had the opportunity to fly US Airways to DC. Nothing much happened on the outbound from Boston, apart from us getting stuck to the tractor and the slow mechanic, but that was a stupid little thing.

The inbound home was much, much worse. We boarded at National, rather uneventfully. I had had some water at the airport, and felt like I needed the bathroom, but it was too late in the jetway. After boarding, we proceeded to sit at the gate as a woman was reseated no less than six times in eight minutes. She “can’t leave bag” at her old seat. It turned out that she was two rows up, and I would have made some “Shut the hell up and sit your ass down” comment, but she was about 97 years old and disoriented. And I had to pee.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard US Airways Shuttle Flight 2044 to Boston Logan International Airport. The FAA has asked us to remind you to remain seated for the first 30 minutes of the flight, until we clear DC airspace. Thank you.” This was followed by a low budget recorded safety briefing. Thirty minutes of a 55 minute flight. I really, really had to pee.

After takeoff, the nine people in 1st class were served drinks, and we were ignored by the friendly FAs. By now, it had been about 30 minutes, and it hurt with every movement. I unbuckled my seatbelt, when “Ladies and gentlemen, from the flight deck. We are beginning our descent into Boston. We will be on the ground in 20 minutes. Please stay in your seats.” I muttered curses at the FAA, and tried not to think about waterfalls.

We arrived in Boston, and after quickly thanking the crew, I was going to bolt up the ramp to the men’s room. But, alas, I was blocked. A woman couldn’t figure out how she was to drive her suitcase, and I reset it 8 times in three minutes.

By the time I was in the bathroom, I felt like I was going to explode. You would think that there would be a line, or a weird dude, or something so inconvenient you would set a personal record for “F-bombs dropped in a minute,” but there wasn’t. The airline was fine, and I recommend it, but don’t drink anything before your flight. Save your time and $7 for a shot of beer on the plane.

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I was on the way to Georgetown, Guyana. I left New York with a confirmed flight from Port of Spain, Trinidad on a flight originating in London which I would join for the short hop. I had an aisle seat next to a man who I eventually learned was named Panty or Pandy. He had been drinking, probably on the whole trip based on his condition, which is why his name is a little uncertain. He wanted to be my friend, and then he dumped his entire glass of beer on my pants. It made it look like I peed in them. He then briefly apologized and tried to push his phone number and various personal bits on me. I got to customs at Piarco airport and was specially singled out because they said anyone who is nervous would pee themselves.

- Bart

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Urine Soaked Seat

July 28, 2010

in Seat Stories

A few years ago – on a flight from Dallas, Texas to Portland, Oregon the overweight and asleep gentleman next to me urinated on his and, ultimately, on my seat. I promptly stood up – to avoid sitting on a urine-soaked seat, and asked the nearest flight attendant for permission to move to another seat (there were at least three empty seats on the flight). She told me to sit back down and said that, for security reasons, I could not change to another seat. I explained the situation to her again and she told me to sit down and stop complaining or I would be met at the gate by an air marshal. She was becoming angry with me and, taking her threat seriously, I crouched over my seat – doing my best to avoid actually sitting. She then returned – with another flight attendant – and they both informed me that, for my safety, I needed to sit ‘firmly’ in my seat. I explained about the urine to the other flight attendant and she said that that was not her problem and that I needed to sit down and relax. Two other passengers backed up my story – and the flight attendants told them to calm down as well. Eventually I ended up sitting on two folded-up blankets – for over two hours – and just had to tolerate the smell.

I took my story to the check-in desk upon my arrival in Portland – along with one of the passengers who very nicely agreed to support my story. They asked me what it would take to make me happy to which I responded “what would it take to make you happy after you had been forced to sit in somebody else’s urine for over two hours?”

What I eventually got – half of my round-trip ticket refunded. As far as I know, nothing happened to the flight attendants.

I have done everything in my power to avoid flying since – the flight attendants use the air marshal/authorities ploy too often and too easily.

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I was on a flight from London Heathrow to JFK in cattle class seats with the surliest bunch of flight attendants it has been my dspleasure to experience. I travel frequently in many parts of the globe, know what a difficult job they can have, and do my best to be a good passenger for them, but this crew had chips on both shoulders.

Nearing the final third of the flight, I needed to use the restroom and got up out of my seat to use the only ones available near the over wing position, when the food trolleys came out. This is usually no problem, I just tell the crew whether or not I want food and that I’ll be right back. Not this time.

“Sir, you’ll have to go sit down, we’re serving food.”

“Sorry? I need the restroom, what does that have to do with anything?”

“We can’t let you by, you’ll have to sit down until we’re done. We’ll only take a few minutes.”

Dark murmurs, but I return to my seat and await the passage of the Holy Food Trolley… which is moving slower than continents drift. Ten minutes pass, 15, 20… and they’re still ten rows away. Both aisles blocked by the slowest food service ever. Now bursting to relieve myself, I get out of my seat, explain my situation as politely as possible and ask to get by.

“I can’t let you do that, we’re serving food!”

“If you don’t let me by, you’ll be mopping up urine!”

“Go sit down please sir.”

“Right, go get the chief flight attendant now – I want a word!”

“I can’t do that, I’m serving food, and he’s on his break in first class.”

“Lady, if you don’t shift your backside out of my way, I’m going to take one of your cups and fill it right here in the aisle. I’m desperate.”

I noticed at this point a woman having the same argument as me with the flight attendant in the starboard aisle, getting even more upset. At this point, even the other passengers are telling these two idiots how unfair they’re being to us.

“Sir, if you don’t sit down, I’m going to get the pilot.”

“Good, do it! At least then you’ll be out of my way and I can go to the restroom!” Big mistake. “I’ll get him – once I’m done serving food!”

Oh sweet Jesus, what is wrong with this woman? There’s no way to get past the trolley and I’m going to wet myself right in front of her any second.

Passengers to the rescue! The people sitting in the aisle seats next to the food trolley, sensing my rising panic, both recline their seats, then stand up and move sideways, allowing me to stand on the armrests and walk around the trolley. This infuriates the flight attendant, who raises her voice and tries to restrain me from doing so for some demented reason, grabbing me by the arm, which I pull from her grasp and bolt towards the restroom, already unzipping as I go, while my fellow passengers are actually applauding!

After the utter bliss of relieving myself, I return to find the trolley still in my way, only in reverse – she STILL hadn’t got back as far as my seat. I stood behind her until she got as far as my seat (about another five minutes – glaciers melt more quickly) and finally sat down again. And guess what happened next? She refused to serve me my tasteless in-flight meal, as I had been “uncooperative” and service was at “her discretion.”

“And complaining and being polite to you is at MY discretion, lady. I suggest you get back here and serve me my food before what’s left of my discretion disappears and you get the one thing you don’t want – my full and undivided attention, both during this flight and afterwards.”

Food served with a grimace and all the grace and charm of a rattlesnake with an infected fang followed, and the rest of the flight passed mercifully quickly. On my way off the aircraft, the lead flight attendant asked “How was your flight?” I replied that, while perhaps not her fault for working with colleagues that had the common sense given to doorknobs, she really needed to get a grip and refresh their interpersonal skills.

The long detailed letter I wrote to American Airlines extracted no more than a form apology letter with no concessions at all, the sort they send out whatever the complaint they receive. I have thus voted with my wallet and gone out of my way to avoid flying with AA ever again.

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