Why I hate flying


In my line of work I have to fly, sometimes several times a year for various gigs. I’ve never gotten used to it, it’s never gotten easier and my fear has never subsided. Every time I fly, I freak the fuck out. I don’t show it but trust me, I’m completely losing my shit while maintaining my cool.

My girlfriend asked me if I was going to bring any weed from Chicago to Seattle. This was before she had a cup of coffee so she wasn’t thinking straight but the answer is “No, I’m not”. Bringing grass from here to Seattle would be like bringing a Big Mac to the French Laundry. Pointless and rather insulting.

It’s not even the lines, it’s the fact that I hate large groups and I don’t like kids. Plus you can’t smoke anywhere, because the whole process isn’t fucked up enough already.

After 2 hours of crowds you get shoved into a big metal tube and trust your life to a total stranger to operate a very complex machine.

If the bus breaks down I can hitchhike but if you crash, you’re pretty well fucked by land or sea. It comes down to my lack of faith in humanity and drugs.

I have to keep details to a minimum but a big reason I hate it is acid.

I won’t say where or when but at one point I split up with a chick and thought it would be a good idea to take 5 hits of liquid LSD before leaving home for my flight.

Stupid stupid stupid!

By the time I was getting coffee a few minutes later at the 7-11, I knew I had seriously fucked up.

I had done this before. 1 hit was fun, 2 was intense and 3 was too much to face the public so I don’t know why the hell I took 5 drops.

Poor, if any, impulse control.

The ride was hell. My ex and I did not like each other so the vibe was anything but pleasant and I knew if she knew I was tripping she would have freaked out. I did my best to play it off as nerves since she knew I hated flying and keep my mouth shut.

By the time we got to the airport I was already flying and trying to enter my ticket number into the touchscreen to get my ticket took me 5 or 6 times. Still, it was a far better option than human interaction.

How the fuck I made it through security is beyond me since I was sure they would know and I would really start having a bad trip and get busted.

Somehow I pulled it off and got through but by then I was tripping so hard that I couldn’t order coffee. Keep in mind this was in a very busy airport and the place was packed.

I was pissed, flying is never fun, having a bad trip is never fun. Add this and the fact that I hadn’t even gotten on the plane yet and you can understand.

I think I sat next to James Taylor, or at least some white guy who looked just like him. He had that “so mellow it’s irritating” vibe but it’s not like I was going to say anything.

The hard part was over. I was peaked and on the plane. All I had to do was sit and breath and I would arrive at my destination.

This worked great, until we hit turbulence. I don’t like the sensation of falling and you can’t pay me enough to ride a roller coaster so when the plane started shaking and we started to fall out of the sky, I completely lost my shit.


“FUCK THIS FUCK THIS FUCK THIS FUCK THIS!!!!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. Between the shaking of the plane and everyone else freaking, no one really heard me. James Taylor had his headphones on and didn’t seem to notice anything. I wanted to choke the fuck out of him for his smugness and I  screamed threats to God of what I would do if I died with these assholes.

After everything, a plane crash would be total bullshit, I deserve an epic death.

Yet another reason I hate flying. If I know that I’m going to die, I want to die high and smiling, not with these people.

At the same time I thought about my ex and calmed down. Having a bad trip in the middle of severe turbulence was still better than putting up with another day of her

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