Live In The Nautical

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Travel Etiquette

Travel Etiquette

I travel a lot. Mostly by public transportation. Train, air, and at times car if I take lots of dramamine. Since I tend to travel with the masses, the gaul and schnoz the some people have tends to amaze me. Many times I have to clamp down on my pedestrian rage and just shake my head. There seems to be a lack of common courtesy that makes traveling much more difficult for others.

First and foremost baggage:

When I travel, my issues are never with TSA, but with checking bags. The wait times are ridiculous. I get it. No one wants to pay the baggage fees. They are ridiculous and overpriced and why the H.E double toothick can you not bring everything and the kitchen sink?

Rules are rules for a reason. DO they always make sense? No (like seriously my lipgloss is a WMD?) but if you educate yourself, and follow them, it will make it much easier for you, the clerks at the airlines, and most importantly your fellow travelers.

On my flight out of JFK yesterday their was a woman, who was trying to convince the airline that her oversize carry on would fit in the bin. She refused to check it. Argued, unpacked, argued some more. Abused the bin that measures carry on size. This went on well over twenty minutes and the woman was still arguing when I went to go through security. The woman had no qualms about holding the line up and making the rest of us wait.

Respect personal space:

I am not a big person. (legal midget, thanks New Hampshire) I don’t take up a lot of space, but just because I don’t take up said roomy space doesn’t mean you have to invade mine, using my arm rest and playing footsies. And when I move so I am not touching a stranger and then wanting to bathe in bleach, you do not continue to move even further into my territory. Sigh… End rant. But seriously, I don’t understand why this is such a novel concept, but to some, it seems it is.

Sometimes I feel like I need to revert back to childhood and would build walls when I got pissed at my siblings. Your space. My space. Stay there.

It isn’t that I don’t mind sharing. I really don’t. If it is crowded I get it there is going to be some uncomfortable elbow rubbing. I just don’t want to touch you if I can avoid it. And usually the situation is such, that it is in fact avoidable.

Phone calls, Music, videos, anything with loud noise:

I get it, your bored. You are dying to see the latest Carpool Karaoke. You just have to talk to your mom. Remember when the teacher use to tell you to use an indoor voice? It is like that, except quieter. Respect for your fellow passengers is paramount. People are trying to get work done. To sleep. To write. No one wants to hear that you are listening to Beyonce’s Lemonade. Turn. It. Down. Your ENT will thank you in your later years anyway.

Be kind:

Traveling is stressful. You have places to be. Lines are moving slowly. You missed your flight. Whatever the reason, it is generally circumstances above the pay grades of those who you are dealing with first hand. Do not take it out on them. In fact usually if you are nice, they will be nice back and be willing o help you out even more then if you are a grumpopotamus. Please and thank you go a long way.

Get there early:

Yes I am Type A. Obsessive Compulsive, and get anxiety when I am late. I always make sure I get to the airport at least two hours before hand. The ability to avoid that stress and hassle of missing my flight combats any wait time I may have. And if it is like Terminal Five at JFK, the wait is certainly not boring.

Over all be considerate, and enjoy the ride. Yes travel can be a hassle, but your out look goes a long way to making it better for you and for others.

Do you have any travel tips or horror stories?

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K.M. Sutton

I am a country girl living on the Upper East Side of the concrete jungle. My friends call me a modern day Renaissance woman. I have dabbled in a little bit of everything, from being a yoga instructor to holistic chef, to skating coach, to glorified nanny, to student. I am a self admitted coffee junkie. A wannabe mermaid. A wanderluster who dreams of other countries. A fashionista who really does need a bigger bank account. But most important of all, I dream of living in a bungalow by the ocean and being a published writer (in style of course) sipping coffee in the morning and a martini in the evening. I love to meet my readers, so feel free to comment or email me. Happy reading!

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