Evacuation at 30,000 feet

In honor of my dearest, who is set to wing her way back to Chicago from the Big Valley tomorrow evening.

To go before the plane or on the plane? This is the perennial, vexing question of air travel.

Usually I choose the former option, only rarely the latter. This invariably turns out to be a chore, as everyone else has the same bright idea (or, perhaps, the same low opinion of their plumbing). Airport lavatories, even in the nicest terminals, are only one step up from their counterparts in bus stations in the matter of inconvenience, if only because of this pee-flight...excuse me, pre-flight pattern.

There are some real advantages to waiting for the airliner loo. Access is usually one customer at a time, and you have the place all to yourself. The big problem is logistics: about the time the plane levels off and the captain OKs moving around, those damn drink carts start jamming up the aisle. And, since you are discouraged from queuing up, you have to watch like a hawk (usually behind you) for the facilities to be visibly vacated.

This doesn't even include the possibility of "turbulence" once you're actually in medias excreto, which usually doesn't arise in the terminal.

So pick your poison, travelers: jockey for a toilet at altitude, or brave the masses in the stalls.