FLYING IS BROKEN AND IT’S MAKING US ALL LOSE OUR MINDS ✈️😭
Okay besties, let’s talk about the absolute STATE of flying in 2024. Like, I’m not even kidding, I think the aviation industry is literally gaslighting us into thinking that being stuffed into a metal tube for six hours is a luxury experience. And we’re all just… accepting it? 💀
I’m currently writing this from the middle seat in row 34, where my knees are basically kissing the seat in front of me, and the person behind me is using my headrest as a punching bag. And you know what the airline calls this? “Economy Comfort.” 💅 Excuse me? The only thing comfortable here is the lie I tell myself that I’ll ever get my personal space back.
Let’s break down the five stages of grief that happen on every single flight now:
**STAGE 1: DENIAL (The Booking Phase)**
You’re scrolling through Google Flights at 2 AM, and you see a $39 ticket to Miami. You think, “OMG this is a steal, I’m basically a travel hacker.” You hit book, you’re feeling like a genius. You even pay extra for “priority boarding” because you think it’ll make you feel important.
But babe, wake up. That $39 ticket? That’s the trap. That’s the entry fee to a psychological experiment. You’re gonna pay $40 for a carry-on, $15 for a bottle of water that costs $0.10 to make, and another $25 just to sit next to your own boyfriend. Suddenly your $39 flight is $200 and you’re still in the back row. And you know what? The airline doesn’t care. They’re literally laughing all the way to the bank. 🏦
**STAGE 2: ANGER (The Airport Experience)**
You show up to the airport three hours early because the airline told you to. But why? So you can stand in a line that wraps around the terminal like a sad, tired snake? The TSA agent is giving you side-eye for having a water bottle. The gate agent is acting like they’re doing you a favor by letting you board.
And then the REAL anger kicks in: You see the line for “Basic Economy” has 80 people. The line for “Priority Boarding” has 12 people. But the line for “Group 1” is just the flight crew and one guy in a suit who looks like he just solved world hunger. Meanwhile, you’re in Group 6, which is basically the “we’ll let you on when the plane is full and we find a seat for you” group. 😤
**STAGE 3: BARGAINING (The Boarding Chaos)**
This is where you start making deals with the universe. You’re standing at the gate, praying to the overhead bin gods that there’s space for your bag. You watch the gate agent call “Group 4” and suddenly EVERYONE rushes the gate like it’s Black Friday and the last TV is on sale.
You start bargaining with yourself: “Okay, if I just stand right behind that family with the stroller, maybe I can sneak in early. If I smile at the flight attendant, maybe they’ll find me a better seat. If I just put my bag under the seat, maybe the universe will reward me with good karma.”
Spoiler alert: The universe does not care. Your bag goes in the overhead bin two rows behind you, and now you have to do the walk of shame back to your seat while everyone stares at you like you’re a criminal. 🚶♀️
**STAGE 4: DEPRESSION (The Actual Flight)**
You’re in your seat. The armrests are no one’s territory, but let’s be real, the person next to you is taking 80% of it. The person in front of you reclines their seat directly into your lap. You have now become a human pretzel. 🥨
The flight attendant comes by with a snack. It’s a package of pretzels and a cup of water that’s the size of a shot glass. You eat it in two seconds and you’re still hungry. The person next to you orders a whole meal and it smells so good you actually consider asking for a bite. You don’t. But you think about it.
And then there’s the crying baby. Not just any baby. The baby that has chosen to scream at the exact moment the pilot announces “we’ve hit some turbulence.” Now you’re strapped in, you’re scared, you’re hungry, and you’re sad. This is your life now. You are a passenger on the struggle bus, and the struggle bus is 30,000 feet in the air.
**STAGE 5: ACCEPTANCE (The Arrival)**
You land. You survived. But at what cost? Your back hurts. Your soul is crushed. You’ve spent four hours in a metal tube with a stranger’s elbow in your ribs. You get off the plane and you’re immediately hit with the smell of the airport terminal. It smells like stale coffee, regret, and floor cleaner.
But here’s the crazy part: You do it all again in three days for the return flight. Because you have no choice. Because flying is the only way to get anywhere fast. And the airline knows that. They know you’re trapped. They know you’re paying $15 for a sandwich that has the texture of a sponge. They know you’re gonna keep booking those $39 tickets because you love the dopamine hit of a “deal.”
**THE REAL VILLAIN: THE AIRLINE LOYALTY PROGRAM**
Don’t even get me started on the credit card points game. The airline is literally tricking you into spending $10,000 a year so you can get a “free” flight to Chicago. It’s like a toxic relationship. They treat you badly, they take your money, but then they give you a shiny
Final Thoughts
Having covered the aviation industry for decades, I’ve seen the airline business oscillate between a commodity race to the bottom and a fragile luxury service, but one constant remains: the passenger experience is always the first casualty of financial engineering. While innovations in fuel efficiency and route optimization are necessary for survival, the relentless pursuit of ancillary revenue has stripped flying of its last vestiges of dignity, turning a journey into a prolonged transaction. Ultimately, no amount of loyalty points or polished marketing can compensate for the fundamental erosion of trust when an airline treats its core product—getting you from A to B safely and with basic respect—as an afterthought.