You’re prodded in by the TSA and their cattle prods, encouraging you to stay in line with your fellow cow commuters dressed in their barnyard best.
As you trot down the aisle to board the plane, you hear a chorus of exaggerated moos and witness a slow-motion stampede. It’s truly an udderly ridiculous sight.
You mosey on down to your seat and wiggle in. Next to you sits Bessie, a heifer whose udders playfully elbow you like an annoying brother. But hey, are you really experiencing the miracle of flight if someone’s poorly placed arms, legs, or hooves don’t brush up against you? It’s all part of the package, right?
As the plane takes off, it turns into a wild rodeo ride, bouncing you up and down in your seat. The captain reassures you it’s just “unexpected turbulence,” but his thick Texan accent and a “yeehaw” suggests you’ve unwittingly joined the Mile-High Rodeo Club.
Mid-flight, a cattle cart is wheeled down the aisle, offering a buffet of peanuts and popcorn to fatten you up for the slaughterhouse — I mean, the destination. Suddenly, a smell that screams “barnyard disaster” wafts through the air, making your nose crinkle. The economy class moos in unison, cursing the loose-boweled-bastard for spreading manure.
After a few more surprise rodeos and a couple more enthusiastic “yee-haws,” the Cowboy Captain announces it’s time to buckle up for landing. That is, of course, assuming you and the other cows can find your buckles amidst the chaos.
The instant the wheels touch the ground, the cattle — uh, passengers — stampede towards the exit and clog up the aisle like cattle often do, until the herd dogs come to usher them out. They’ve damned you and your overhead luggage to the wild, wild west of commercial aviation.
All you want is one thing: for them to moove over.
Please like, comment, share and let me know if you’ve flown in a cattle car.