Flying Past Space Shuttle Launch
This happened to me once. Just missed a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity...
Jesus fucking Christ, this flight is never-ending. I swear, I’ve aged a decade since we took off from the UK. My arse is numb, and I’m pretty sure I’ve heard every crying baby on this plane hit a new decibel level. Oh great, what now? The pilot’s on the intercom again. The last time he spoke, it was to tell us to buckle up because of turbulence. Like we haven’t already been shaken more than a paint mixer at Home Depot.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the captain’s voice crackles, trying to sound all calm and collected. “If you look out the left side of the aircraft, you’ll see something quite spectacular. We are passing the Kennedy Space Center, and there’s a space shuttle launch happening right now.”
Are you fucking kidding me? A goddamn space shuttle launch and I’m stuck on the right side of the plane. I crane my neck, but all I see is the pudgy face of the kid next to me, whose sticky fingers are currently invading my personal space. Bloody marvellous. Everyone on the left side of the plane gets the thrill of a lifetime, and here I am, left to count the crumbs on my tray table.
The whole plane is buzzing now. Cameras flashing, people gasping, and I can hear the ooohs and aaahs from the lucky bastards with a window seat on the left. The guy in front of me is leaning over so far, he might as well just climb into the lap of the person across the aisle. “Can you see it?” some wanker yells, like rubbing it in helps. No, mate, I can’t see shit except your gaping mouth and the back of your greasy head.
I try to imagine it—the shuttle, with its fiery engines blasting off into space, defying gravity while I’m stuck in this flying sardine can. What a sight it must be. I’d give my left nut to swap seats with someone right now. Typical, isn’t it? The universe serves up something incredible, and I miss it because I’m on the wrong side of a plane. Sod’s law at its finest.
The plane starts to tilt slightly, and for a split second, I think maybe, just maybe, I’ll catch a glimpse. But no, it’s just another tease. I manage to spot a bit of the coast, but nothing more. The pilot’s voice comes back on, “We hope you enjoyed the view.” Oh, fuck off. Enjoyed the view? The only view I’ve had is of the emergency exit and the back of some bloke’s head.
Almost at Orlando now, they say. Good. About time. I could use a drink that isn’t served in a plastic cup by a surly flight attendant. Maybe next time I’ll get a seat on the left side of the plane. Or maybe I’ll just bring a bloody periscope.