How can a phone disappear on an airplane? “It cannot go far. We will search for it after we have landed.” Yeah right, as if I wouldn’t get a complete meltdown without my phone in near sight. How could I even lose it? It was beyond me. One second I was idly fiddling with it, possibly playing a stupid game, then the next it fell down. I tried grabbing it, even brushing it with my finger tips for mere seconds and then… poof… it was gone. Disappeared into thin air. In the middle of the sky. In an enclosed space. Oh the joy. Losing your phone on a plane can be a an actual thing, I guess.
Close to the Touch
“Please remain seated.” By now, I was crouching underneath hapless passengers’ seats, squeezing my big head into the tiniest spaces, hoping my eyes would miraculously adopt the ability to see in the dark. I couldn’t very well use my phone as a torch light. Oh how I missed my phone. It felt like we had been parted for ages. It was three minutes.
At first, I didn’t want to touch anything. Do you have any idea all the undefined stuff that is lying on the floor of an airplane? Trust me, you don’t wanna know. But desperation and the annoyed pleas by the flight attendant soon made me reconsider. I had no time to lose! As swiftly as possible my arm shot out. I hoped swift touches would make the cringeworthiness less pronounced. Nope.
What was the soft furry bit that I had just touched? And the edgy thing poking my pinky? I found all kinds of monstrosities for an OCD person but not the item I was looking for. Sure, my phone had seen better days. It was battered and bruised, its silver coating chipped off and the screen full of scratches. But it certainly didn’t deserve to descend into the depths of airplane carpets.
Chained to the Seat
“Miss, please sit down now. The captain has switched on the seatbelt sign.” Damn you, Captain! Grumbling and moping, I retreated to my window seat. In protest I folded my arms and frowned into the distant clouds. Why was life so unfair? I guess resuming childlike ways was my feeble attempt at keeping the panic at bay. That didn’t really work.
Slowly but surely the cold kept creeping up on me, sending shivers up and down my spine, clogging up my throat. This was bad! How would I be able to cope without my phone? Would they ever be able to find it if manic me couldn’t? I would not admit defeat. As soon as the seatbelt sign was switched off, I jumped back into action, crawling under seats and sneakily pushing bags aside.
A few people were trying to help. Mostly by lifting their feet in surprise or relocating their belongings out of my line of sight. It was clear that I would definitely not win a popularity contest on this flight. However, all I wanted was the ardent devotion and adoration of my phone after saving it from the hell in the heavens.
It is entirely possible to lose your phone an on airplane. My disaster story: https://travelonthebrain.net/losing-your-phone-airplane/ #ttotz
Relentless are the Panicky
“Miss, we are about to land. Would you PLEASE put the seatbelt on,” the stewardess sighed. By now, she had been hiding in the corner of the airplane, pretending not to see me. I bet it wasn’t the way she had pictured her day. We had something in common there. In near-defeat I sank back into my chair and let my arms dangle. Urgh, I touched something furry again. Should I find out what it was? Better not. A bushel of hairs attached to the carpet. But wait a hot second.
How could I touch the carpet when my hand fell against the airplane wall? I had to investigate further. After all, I was chained to my chair for the moment. The carpet went a few centimeters up the wall, where it fit in neatly. At least in theory but this particular carpet attachment had come off ever so slightly and opened up just a little bit. Could it be?
Quivering with anticipation I reached for the carpet opening in slow motion. There it was, all black and partly silver. In all its chipped glory. With its lovely scratches. And the shiny surface smeared by my greasy fingers. Yes, that was my phone! My glorious phone! How did I want to perform a little celebratory dance right on the seat.
Miss Won’t Miss This
“Miss, please,” I could hear the stewardess moaning in my head. I stole a sneaky look in her direction. I think she rolled her eyes. Well, I bet she dreaded the plane landing for fear of me turning the place inside out. She needn’t have feared. I had already looked under the rugs and were soon out of her hair. Hers as well as that off the floor. Yikes…