Panama-cation

All-inclusive vacations are funny things. 

A group of strangers departs on the same flight, stays at a handful of the same hotels, then returns on the same flight. 


So, if you're judgey like me, you find lots of things to talk about. 


I met my sister at the Toronto airport for our charter to Panama City, after some mild drama with Air Canada which resulted in some tears and snot and a business class seat from Montreal to Toronto. Yep. I roll like that. Once settled at the gate in Toronto, we immediately started judging observing people. 


One twosome stood out. A 30something dude with a ponytail travelling with his mother. They kept bickering about how much he could fit in his suitcase and who was going to sit where on the plane. They didn't seem to like each other very much. 


Fast forward to the end of the vacation. And giant sad face. 

Our flight from Panama City back to Toronto was delayed. The only logical thing to do, of course, was shop at the duty free. 


And because I had taken Gravol in an emergency barfy bus situation, the only thing I wanted to do after the requisite shopping was close my eyes and lie on the airport carpet with my nerdy travel pillow.  


When people started lining up at the gate, before our flight was even announced, I decided it was time to open my eyes and judge them. 


Who gets in line just for the sake of getting in a line? I'll tell you who. the son/mom combo. Which I was horrified to learn, was a boyfriend/girlfriend combo. I even sent in a spy to find out why these people were lining up, for an as-of-yet non-existant flight. Their answer? It made them feel like they were doing something. 


Interesting. And also douchey. 


I was with five other people watching this douchiness. My sister, a couple and two guys. The people we made friends with at our resort. Because that's how you roll on vacation. You single out the cool people, and make friends with them. And then you mock everyone else.

Obviously we waited until the last minute to board the plan. Wouldn't you rather be sprawled out on an airport carpet then scrunched into an airplane seat? 


I thought so. 


When I finally meandered onto the plane, fashionably late, the homely gf/bf combo were occupying the outer two seats. I had to shimmy into the window seat. The rest of the plane ride next to complainer couple went like this: 


GF (undoing her seatbelt): Well, the flight attendants told us to put our seat belts on. So I don't know why they said that if there's more people getting on. 


Me: Good thing the seat belts are so easy to undo. 


Later 


GF: My light doesn't even work. How am I supposed to see anything? I can't fill out my immigration card. 


BF: Are you okay? 


GF (huge sigh): Yes, I'm okay. I'm just frustrated. 


BF: I know. This airline sucks. 


GF: It really does. It sucks. 


Later


GF (coming back from the bathroom): That drunk guy in the back is grabbing people. 


Me: Oh yah? 


GF: Yes! He tried to reach out and grab my butt. So be careful when you go to the bathroom. He's grabbing people's butts. 


Me: Right. Okay. I'll watch out for that. 


After we land


Me (taking out my iPhone)


GF: Do you have the weather on that thing?


Me: Yes. It's 7 degrees. And raining. 


GF: Because they didn't even announce the weather when we landed. 


Me: Yes. It's a tragedy. A real tragedy. 






I wonder if those people enjoyed their vacation at all.