air etiquette

The 6 Most Annoying Things Gay Men Do On Airplanes

True, all airplane passengers, regardless of sexuality, are engaged in pretty disgusting and obnoxious stuff, from the junior congresswoman in first class with a finger in her ear to the father juggling three kids who clearly saw his five-year-old wipe a booger on the seat in front of him and didn’t make any attempt to clean it up. But gay men do some pretty aggravating things of their own during air travel. Some of it we’ve heard about. Some of it we’ve witnessed. And in at least one instance, we’ve engaged in it ourselves.

Attempt to join the Mile High Club.
Yes, we’ve all thought about it. And in movies and most people’s minds, having sex while a commercial aircraft is in the sky takes place in the bathroom. We’ve actually never seen this happen, nor heard any first-hand stories. (No, your ex-boyfriend’s best friend’s tale doesn’t count.) Probably because those bathrooms are so small, and the flight attendants are usually situated right next to them, apt to spy two guys heading in together. But sex, or sexual acts, do take place at 30,000 feet, though the easiest to be discrete about involve just the hands. A carefully placed blanket has two guys thinking they’re hiding something, but everyone knows you’re not using a Shake Weight machine under there. Whatever you do, please do not attempt the behavior pictured.

Cruise Grindr or Manhunt over wifi.
With Virgin, Delta, Continental and a growing roster of airlines offering wifi Internet access in the air, it was only a matter of seconds before passengers abused the service. It’s not just obnoxious loud talkers trying to make Skype calls — we’ve seen dudes on Xtube and, of course, cruising Grindr and Manhunt as the clouds roll by. Generally, we’ve got no problem with your social networking practices, but everyone knows the fifth line of a Grindr of Manhunt exchange involves sending cock shots in hopes of securing an encounter upon touch down. If you absolutely must declare your PNP status while flying, have the decency to turn your computer or iPhone screen away from the toddler sitting next to you.

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Complain.
Just because there is a button to ring the flight attendant does not mean it needs pressing because your pillow isn’t soft enough or you need two extra blankets. We’ve noticed a disproportionate number of self-entitled queens boarding the plane and thinking they’re checking into a hotel. This is not what is happening when you walk down the gateway; you are actually boarding a human freight device, and it’s your job to make the ride as bearable for your neighbors as it is for you. Stop bitching about not having enough legroom; nobody does. Quit kvetching over having to pay for cookies; you should’ve brought your own sugar-free, gluten-free, carb-free alternative snack. And the guy in front of you is going to recline his seat, which might put a damper on the room you’ve afforded for Tickles, your stuffed penguin. Your routine isn’t cute at sea level. It’s particularly repulsive in the air.

Sneak aboard too many carry-on pieces.
With airlines charging all sorts of new fees, everybody is trying to squeeze their belongings into a carry-on size piece of luggage. That’s understandable, and an expected reaction the marketplace. But the carry-on rules still apply: one small suitcase, and one personal item (like a handbag or laptop case). No more. But the gays are going overboard, lugging their Louis Vuitton roller, Marc Jacobs tote, MacBook Pro, overstuffed Cavalli parka, and their puggle as they shimmy down the aisle into 42F. This leaves no overhead bin space for more reasonable passengers. We know, you’re returning from a fab-u-lous shopping trip, or you’re heading to your Swiss chalet and you must have at least two daytime outfits and three evening options, but if that’s the case, pay the stupid $25 and check your bag. Don’t make everyone else drown in your Tumi.

Flirt with the flight attendant.
Common wisdom suggests that if you see a man walking down the aisle of an airplane, and he wears that airline’s uniform, he is a homosexual. So far, we’ve been right seven out of seven times, and perhaps your hit rate is even higher. But flashing a smile at the cutey from your middle seat during beverage service is one thing. Engaging in a conversation that starts with “And where are you from?” and ends with “Well here’s my number” is another. Engage in all the eye fucking you want, but if your mid-air courtship keeps us from getting the tiny Absolut bottle we need to get through the flight, we’re gonna be pissed. And so too might the flight attendant: Just because he’s a captive audience, trapped between galleys, doesn’t mean he wants to hear about your boyfriend troubles. If he’s into you, you’ll know — by the extra nuts he hands you.

Brag about flying private.
While most of the above items concern gays flying commercial aircraft, with other peons, some of us are fortunate to fly private planes between Manhattan and Turks and Caicos, or Los Angeles and Telluride. That’s lovely. But nothing shows less class than tweeting about being in a P.P. And please, whatever you do, don’t TwitPic snaps of the Cristal you’ve been served. What, you want to look like this guy?

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