The “I Don’t Fly Often” Crowd Has Entered the Cabin

I’d like to formally update my flight log with a new entry in the ongoing series titled “Why Airplane Etiquette Is Apparently Optional.”

Welcome aboard American Airlines Flight AA333.

Seat 15B.

Right next to me.

And friends… we have food.

Not snacks.

Not a sandwich.

Not even something politely neutral like pretzels.

This is hot, pungent, aggressively aromatic food that smells uncannily like cat food.

Now, before anyone gets defensive—no judgment on cuisine preferences. Eat what you love. Live your truth. But there’s an unspoken rule of flying that seasoned travelers understand instinctively:

If it smells like it belongs in a bowl on the floor, it does not belong in a pressurized metal tube.

This, once again, is classic “don’t fly often” behavior.

The signs are always there:

Zero situational awareness

No concern for shared air

Complete confidence that this was the right moment to open that container

Airplanes are already a sensory assault. Limited legroom. Engine noise. That one guy who coughs like he’s auditioning for a medical drama. We do not need olfactory chaos added to the mix.

And yet here we are.

Between the early seat recliners and now the mystery protein-emitting eau de feline entrée, this cabin is shaping up to be a masterclass in rookie mistakes.

Frequent flyers don’t need reminders. We know the drill:

Neutral-smelling food only

Eat fast or wait

Respect the invisible bubble of misery we all share

So to seat 15B: I hope your meal was worth it. Truly. Because the rest of us will be smelling it until cruising altitude… and possibly until landing.

Fasten seatbelts.

Tray tables up.

And please—next time—leave the cat food at home. 🐈✈️