no, i’m not talking about the classic 1970s woman’s lib book by erica jong, which coined the term, “zipless eff.” i’m talking about the terror-inducing, debilitating, completely irrational, white-knuckle fear i experience every time i have to get on a plane.
generally, i avoid all instances where i would have to fly. for example, over xmas break we DROVE from houston to orlando – in one day.
being that there’s no way to drive to paris, i’m pretty much screwed. so i have basically two options. be a complete basket case for about 10 hours. or, self medicate to the point of unconsciousness. i’m going to choose the latter.
when i was younger, i always used to throw down some drinks in the airport bar before boarding and passing out on the plane. but that would always leave me feeling very dehydrated and hung over. then a few years ago, i was complaining about flying to a doctor friend of mine.
“oh, no, no, no.” he said. “come see me and i will give you something that will change your life.” he prescribed me xanax.
hooray for highly additive, narcotic, prescription drugs! i call them my happy flying pills, and they are awesome. there’s a reason why celebs have to go to rehab for abusing them and it’s because they are too much of a good thing.
so anyway, i have my small stash which i’m taking for the trip. our flight leaves in a few hours. i’ll take a few right as we board and while everyone is settling in, i’ll start silently repeating my calming, peaceful mantra: the pilot wants to live too…the pilot wants to live too.
i should be asleep before we leave the ground.
see you on the other side.