On my flight: a prisoner trying to break out

I have a lot of time on my hand to write this post now. I’ve just missed a flight, and my new ticket is for the one that departs in 3 hours only.

Not a good experience, missing a flight by the way, at least not the way I did: I went to the waiting lounge, started programming, entered the “tunnel”, and when I looked up again, all the people were gone and the departure gate’s screen was blank. The screen was blank, I’ve been running back and forth between the departure list and the gate — to slowly realise what I’ve just done.

What if…! I wish I could go back in time, just ten minutes, jump in the queue before the gate closes.

Ain’t gonna happen. What if…?

Missing a flight does actually have a remedy that works all the time: you pay some £200 for the next available plane, and off you go. Nice-and-easy, only my girlfriend is a bit pissed now.

Last week though, when a prisoner, just two rows behind me attacked another person on my flight, I couldn’t come up with a good enough solution to calm myself down.

Oh, yes, prisoner.

A prisoner, on the same flight as I am. Apparently this is something low-cost airlines do. Transport people who need that kind of special assistance.

He smashed the seat in front of him, and used the pieces to attack the person to his right. The attacker, massive fella, with the kind of look you would draw, if you had to make a cartoon about terrorists.

The crew was in panic. The woman next to me started crying. You could hear the assistance-buttons pinging all over the airplane, and the commotion in the back.

The attackee, another massive guy, only extended his left arm and pushed the baddy back to his seat. The two other passengers in front jumped up immediately and joined in. They seemed to have been on our side.

At this point, we didn’t know a thing. It was just a terrorist-looking guy attacking someone during takeoff, and three people pushing him back.

Freakin’ unreal.

What’s the a chance that they do have a weapon on board?

The commotion is just behind me, I’m in the third-to-last row. I hear the big guys saying: “Everything is fine, we are controlling the situation”.

Say what?

I then see handcuffs, and the guys seem to be chaining the attacker to his seat. He is a prisoner, as it turns out, being transferred from London back to his home country.

A prisoner, being on the same flight as I am. Doesn’t sound that bad actually, if you compare it to all the other options.

The crew still seems to be at panic, the pilot announces that we will return to the airport. That’s the longest 20 minutes of landing I’ve had in my life. Please keep the guy at his seat.

As it turns out then, nothing happened. Nothing serious at all. Our hearts were jumping out for no actual reason. However, the perception was such that all of us did rethink our lives.

I, for example, will try to fly less. Much less.