Our first flight was our connection from San Diego to LA. I understand that hundreds of people make the 20 minute hop between the two cities everyday so the airlines do not want to use their big jets for that hop. I really do understand that. But we walked out to make out connection and saw a PROP PLANE. Yes, folks, a plane with two propellers to move it along. Nary a jet in sight. But I swallowed my fears and climbed aboard my small, shaky, chariot of the skies.
Twenty minutes later we landed in LA and found our gate for our flight to El Paso. I felt confident that a 2 hour flight would have a large jet. On our way to San Diego we had been on a regular jet with television programs to watch. So why would this flight be different, right?
Wrong.
While this plane was larger than the first, it was by no means big. I had some fears that were confirmed when I heard an alarm going off...and going off...and going off. Then the flight attendant got on the intercom and asked for four volunteers to move from the front of the plane to the back to EVEN OUT THE WEIGHT ON THE PLANE. That's right, people were asked to move because the weight of the plane was uneven. By the time we got to El Paso, this is how I felt.
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| This is not me. This is a stock photo. But the emotion is the same. |
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