Metal Airplanes

Today, I fell asleep on an airplane.

We had been stalled on the tarmac for about an hour. The president was landing at JFK, and every plane on the runway was prevented from taking flight on schedule.

I was supposed to ensure that my tray table was in the full-upright-and-locked position, but I used it as a pillow instead. When I woke up with my face stuck to the plastic, we were landing.

This may seem morbid. But when I awoke, I thought about how many people have died in plane crashes in their sleep. What happens to them? One minute they're snacking on the leftover peanut bits between their teeth and wading through the mire of the half-sleep-half-awake mind, and the next they're hurtling at an inhuman speed towards their watery grave. Do you think they feel (if they can feel) like they haven't been given the full death experience? Maybe they feel like you do when you're a kid and you sleep through your trip to the toy store. You still get something out of it, but you don't actually get to go through it.

I thought about this while I refused two dollar headsets for the ninth time and smelled industrial sanitizer one final time before drifting into a deep, deep sleep.

Today I slept on an airplane.

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