I always go home for Spring Break.
Not this year. This year, I flew to England to visit my girlfriend and her former roommate, who are studying abroad. On the way over, I was far too excited to join my fellow passengers in their slumber, so I watched the stewardess explain the safety features of our aircraft.
"Your seat," she explained, "can be used as a flotation device."
Of course, I'm thinking. Because if our 134-ton Airbus A330-300 hits the north Atlantic at 600 mph, we're all just going to cling to those cushions, calmly exit the remains of the plane and swim 500 miles to safety in the freezing water.
Should the seat cushions not provide enough buoyancy for us, we will use the life vests hidden under our seats. The stewardess tore open a paper package, put one on, showed us the tab that inflates it... and then didn't pull it.
What a tease.
"Do not inflate your vest until you are outside the aircraft," she said, conjuring images of all 240 passengers pulling their tabs simultaneously, filling the cabin with orange floats and rendering us all unable to move.
On my domestic connecting flight, the safety information was shown on a screen that dropped from the plane's ceiling. We watched as the brilliant sun shone through an airplane window. Suddenly, an oxygen mask dropped in front of a beautiful brunette, who calmly put it on before helping the smiling child next to her don her own mask.
Just how I've always imagined explosive decompression of an airplane cabin.
Still, it's comforting to know those safety features are available. After all, when I'm screaming through the air at more than three quarters the speed of sound in a huge example of French engineering, it's good to know that someone has given at least a little thought to worst-case scenarios.
This was especially true on my flight, where the flashing cabin lights and the announcement that we were having problems with the plane's electrical system forced me to remember that the French are famous for their cheese and sparkling wine, not their aviation equipment.
But I digress. The point is, for all their foibles and faults, airlines are very concerned about safety and security. Why, just last week, American Airlines delayed a flight from Florida to Texas because a self-described psychic said a bomb might be on the plane.
See how careful they are?
But even though airlines take every possible clue seriously, mistakes happen. At Manchester International Airport, I was randomly chosen to be frisked by security and to have my bag searched before I could board the plane.
If you've never been frisked, let me tell you, it's an uncomfortable experience.
But neither of these officers found the butter knife I had accidentally left in my carry-on from a picnic two days earlier. That wasn't discovered until we went through security in the States.
Boy, was that fun.
"Sir, is it possible that you have a serrated knife in your bag?"
Gulp.
"Ummm, yes. I think maybe that's possible."
Thankfully, they let me board my plane (after confiscating the knife). My karmic punishment? The airline extended Spring Break for my luggage. It finally decided to come back to school Wednesday.
If only I could've been as lazy.
Write to Steve at stevehj@mac.com
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