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A Trip to Paradise With a Demon Family...Aka My Flight on Hawaiian Airlines

January 4, 2020 - My family and I are onboard Hawaiian Airlines, seated and on our way to my brother's 30th birthday destination, Kauai. I was hoping to do quite a bit of reading on this 5-hour flight, but this desire was actively denied. Bach and Handel could not even save me from these unforeseen disturbances because the iPhone Airpods were no match for the nettling intrusions upon my reading. It was analogous to only setting up walls as defense fortifications and having the enemy perform air strikes. There were several reasons I was unable to read on this flight, and even unable to sleep...and even unable to obtain a single moment of tranquility. I will elaborate on these reasons below.

Firstly, once we got into the air, the pilot hopped onto the telecom system and began to speak to us passengers. There is a speaker over every seat, and his broadcast interrupts any sort of viewing on the monitors in the headrest in front of you, therefore if you are viewing a film or a show, it will not resume its sound until the pilot gets off the speaker system. Thus, one is forced to hear him. After accomplishing his task of getting us into the air, he then began to do a job that I never knew was a part of a pilot's job duty, he became a credit card salesman and began to give the longest advert for Hawaiian Airlines. The advert was for Hawaiian Airlines' Credit Card, in which the goal of the advert was to convince every single passenger, that is eligible to apply for credit cards, to apply for the company's credit card. This advert was written with the intention of displacing Marcel Proust's In Search of Lost Time for the longest thing ever written. I am not exaggerating for jest when I say that we were halfway to Hawaii by the time he completed his advert. I do not believe he gets any sort of commission for credit card sign-ups, because the manner of his delivery was the quintessential monotone voice. The iPhone's virtual assistant Siri has more life in her than this man. I have heard hostages read out hostage demand letters with more enthusiasm than this poor, downtrodden pilot. Though, I don't blame the man for sounding so very lifeless when dictating the written commercial. He got into the airline business to fly planes and maybe have a few flings outside of marriage, instead, they have him reading hour long adverts every flight, attempting to convince tourists to sign up for an airline's credit card, and he is trying to convince himself that this job is still worth it.

The second reason I could not read occurred later on in the flight, once the pilot got back to his job of flying the plane instead of reading out a commercial. My mother was in deep REM sleep, and therefore, she was snoring so loudly that I thought I accidentally sat next to a jet engine. I was envious of her, in that she was able to sleep and escape the torture in which I am about to recount in horrifying details.

The primary reason I could not read, nor obtain a second of tranquility, was due to the most ill-behaved, and loudest child I have ever encountered in my life. I had the tragically unfortunate opportunity of having him sit in a seat in front of me. I have never once wanted Liam Neeson, from the film Taken, to ever throat punch a child before, until I experienced that plane ride. Too bad Christmas just passed because all I would have asked for for Christmas would be for this vile, morbidly-obese, basketball-shaped child to have missed his flight. He screamed and cried as if he was being forced to watch the Fast and the Furious franchise. The characters in the Saw films screamed and cried less than this child. He also ran up and down the aisles as if he was training for a track meet, and his shoes seemed to be filled with lead and osmium. I thought we were enduring tempestuous turbulence, but it was just this child's running that was causing the plane to shake and waver while high up in the sky. He also stood on his chair with unsettling familiarity, and displayed a supercilious countenance which made my contempt for him increase exponentially, he reminded me of Benito Mussolini when he was engaged in that action. Furthermore, he treated his family as if they were a park playground as he climbed all over them, continually moving from chair to chair, to the aisle and back, never stationary, refusing to ever be idle.