By Chris Marler
We need universal regulations.
We need them for a lot of things to be honest. NIL for starters. Jail time for people who FaceTime in public is another. Oh, and term limits for politicians. I mean, how many more geriatric, career politicians on either side do we need to pretend they are still being diligent civil servants?
I can’t fix those things though. So I’ll start small. We need regulations for flying on airplanes. Much like smoking and several people last month, shame and decency also went out the window when it comes to flying.
I’m not talking about people who take their shoes off on a flight or people that lean their chair back. Don’t get me wrong, both those things suck too. I’m literally on a flight to Boston while writing this, and if the man in front of me leans back anymore, I’m gonna be wearing him like a baby Bjorne.
But I have a way bigger issue with several other acts and types of people. Like men who wear tank tops to the airport. I feel like this usually only happens in Florida or Philadelphia. Regardless, what are we doing here, Gary? I didn’t want the hair on your head to rub up against me on this flight. What makes you think I want the hair on the back of your arm to touch me? You went to Ron Jon’s surf shop once. We get it. Get some sleeves or fly Spirit.
You know what else should be outlawed? People who bring food on a flight. I don’t mean trail mix or little granola bars. I mean whole meals of food. I don’t want to sound super white, but in this case literally any seasoning is too much seasoning. I don’t care that you couldn’t finish your triple dipper at the Orlando Airport Stairway to Heaven Chilis. Unlike the mini shampoo bottles you stole from the Marriott Marquis, that stuff better stay in the city you’re leaving.
And last but not least, sandals. I used to be a habitual offender of this, mainly because I didn’t want to untie shoes at security. However, it’s time we all join hands across this country and stand up against open toes at the TSA checkpoint. Bare feet belong in basically 3 places: your own home, near or in a body of water, or in a DM from a creepy dude trying to buy you a Chanel bag for feet pics.
Here ends the rant. Happy Friday y’all.
