This might be a surprise to many of you, but I don’t do well on flights. Overall, I’d say my whole relationship with flying is on the rocks. I’m not afraid of heights, or anything like that. While flying at 30,000 feet in a sealed metal tube might not sound like a picnic, I’m not overly concerned about the heights. The TSA doesn’t bother me very much, either. I’m not a fan of the constant cavity searches, but that’s not where I hide my drugs, so it’s never been a problem.  All the stories I hear from my friends are what really turn me off to plane travel.

For instance, I’ll never fly in a light aircraft because they crash all the time. A while ago I heard a really dismal story about a Cessna 156 two-seater plane that crashed while flying from Denmark to the Ukraine. About halfway through their flight, there was a catastrophic fuel-tank leak, and they lost all their fuel after a couple minutes. The nearest landing strip was over 50 miles away, so they had to crash land in Poland. After the engines cut out, the pilots lost control of the plane, and it came crashing down in a huge graveyard.

Luckily, both pilots survived, but the Polish search-and-rescue workers are still finding bodies to this day.