Airplane Erections: A Guide For The Mile-High Engorged Traveler
It happened again, didn’t it? You fell asleep in your extended economy seat, lulled into unconsciousness by the dreadful, all-consuming exhaustion embraced by every business traveler, only to wake up and discover that your seatback wasn’t the only thing standing ramrod straight in row 16.
Airplane erections are far more embarrassing than the ones you had while delivering that book report on Lord of the Flies in tenth grade, mostly because given the state of most U.S. carriers you’re most likely invading the personal space of whoever’s sitting on either side of you to the point where you’re already legally married in Mississippi.
What’s the best way to deal with the situation? Take a deep breath, avoid eye contact, and read on.
Think Unsexy Thoughts. This never works. It’s no use. Everything is sexy when you’re deal with a sudden rush of blood to the least intelligent part of your body. The in-flight magazine. That half-empty can of Coke on the tray in front of you. Your own hand. The cousin you sort of made out at summer camp. It’s all dead fucking sexy. You’re going to hell.
Release The Tension. Does your plane have a bathroom? Does the door lock? Do you have something you can hold in front of your crotch like a make-shift modesty shield as you stumble your way down the aisle? Do you want to have an experience that underscores the loneliness in your life to the point where you won’t be able to look in a mirror for weeks? Go rub one out in a 737 bathroom, hero.
Just Start Crying. That presentation in St. Louis was really tense, wasn’t it? All the stress of trying to be someone you’re not, in front of a group of professionals who saw right through your bullshit. And now you can’t even have this. This shameful erection. Cry it out. You deserve it.