Originally Posted by
USMCFLYR
I always listen to the safety brief, read the brochure, find my nearest exit, and immediately buckle my seat belt (and leave it buckled) and I'm always aware during takeoff and landing. I also usually stop by the book store and buy a 'FLYING' magazine to read on the flight(s). Well...on this one early morning flight I was doing all of the above and we were taxiing out and this little old grandmother reaches over and pats my knee and says to me "It is OK, I do this all this all the time" I had no idea why she did this until I looked down to start reading my new magazine and saw that one of the headlines on the cover was "Are you scared of flying?"
I didn't have the heart to tell her!
USMCFLYR
Wow! So I'm not the only one!!! Yes, I listen very attentively to every safety briefing and make mental note of the nearest exits. As well as the location of where the oxygen masks might deploy, where the FAs stations are located, where the barf bags are, etc. I don't bother with reading anything because I can't during flight. (As I can't read during car rides either!) Can't sleep either. so I stare straight ahead, white-knuckled and red-faced. (Sort of like being in a catatonic state.) Yet, I've been flying as a passenger for many years now with probably well over 300,000 miles. (I remember the good ol' days when the alcohol served was mostly free of charge, and one could even smoke in the back of the bus.) But it all boils down to that one regretful flight from Berlin, GE to Moscow, RU back in '91.
Got on an "aircraft" (Aeroflot) in Templehof. (Said aircraft consisted of 2 props and looked like it should have been deposited n a museum a long, long time ago. During the climb out from Templehof the plane shuddered and screeched and sang like a canary. Things were flying all over the place: (and not just the aircraft.) food was spilling out of the galley, luggage was dropping out of the overheads, ceiling panels were coming undone, the FA's were all belted in and white-faced, this little old Russian priest who was on the flight continued blessing himself and muttering prayers aloud, and people were barfing and yelling out that we were all about to die. (It sounded, at times, like a lunatic asylum.)
I've been a flying basket-case ever since.