SNACKS ON A PLANE

I feel like there are a lot of bad things that can happen on a plane journey. In this case, it was like many other flights, just a couple of hiccups, but in the end, it was a bog-standard journey. Or was it? Leaving it on a cliffhanger makes you want to read the rest, and hopefully, it’s better than just skipping to the end.

Plane journeys bring out all kinds of emotions, and you learn a lot about the people around you. For example, people who clap when the plane lands, ugh. It's acceptable if the pilot had to wrestle the plane through high winds and turbulence, but completely unacceptable if the flight was delayed for hours and yet landed smoother than a feather drifting off a bird.

Then, some people need the loo. If you need to go, just go; it should be simple, however, not for me. It’s a feeling that has been bothering me since takeoff, but sitting in a window seat on a packed aircraft, there is no escape.

I’m someone who would rather wet himself than disrupt other people. Knowing I’ve inconvenienced someone just upsets me, which is great for good karma but horrific when I feel my bladder will explode. A golden explosion is not something I’d like to deliver to these people on this flight.

Bringing up explosions on a flight is probably a bad idea, an unnecessary scare or worry. But in situations like this, with a bag of crisps, I assume it's safe. I don’t know why, but crisps tend to balloon when you’re flying at high altitude. So, I sit still and want to save my packet of big Monster Munch, as I think a delicacy like that should be savored. I want to wait until we’re flying over Italy before diving in, but the Monster Munch has places to be.

As I pull the Monster Munch out of my rucksack, it has an unearthly look. Somehow, the packet has grown, increasing its surface area in minutes. It’s taken me months to gain 1kg, and I’ve been trying, but cardio tends to hinder progress.

Now, in a situation like this, there are usually a great number of odd things I could do to avoid spillage:

Use my teeth to slowly pierce the packet. Get some scissors and carefully cut the packet, only to realize I'm not allowed scissors on a plane. Open it like a normal packet of crisps.

I chose option three. But today was not the day I thought it was. The crisps disobey all laws of physics and logic. The bottom part of the packet opens, and the shockwave, like a fart I’ve been holding in all day at work because I believe people will respect me less if I let it out, bellowed through only a few rows. Yet, people are still on edge.

“Oh f**k.”

Before I know it, Monster Munch was everywhere. It drops onto the table and the floor at an awful rate. A few casualties, but the majority survive. I can enjoy my crisps in peace, knowing everyone else is probably jealous that I still have some left.

It was a journey