I arrive at Jeju Airport and immediately regret every life choice that led me here.
Thousands of people, all moving faster than me, all in a rush to sit in a tiny metal tube.
I consider hiding under a bench and pretending I’m a statue. Maybe then the Chuseok crowd will overlook me. But no, reality insists on existing.
No ticket, full flight. I pay 100,000 won as a tribute to fate.
My wallet sobs, my heart races, my soul questions why I was born.
The clerk stares at me, as if I’m asking for the Holy Grail. “Wait,” he says. I join the list. Every second feels like eternity.
10 minutes later, a miracle. A seat appears! I grab it like it’s the last donut in a post-apocalyptic bakery.
The clerk yells “Follow me!” And just like that, I’m running.
I’m dodging people, carts, and small children like a man in a low-budget action movie.
I run, my stomach screaming, my dignity trailing behind. Somewhere, my ancestors shake their heads.
HE EVEN PASSED THE SECURITY WITH ME I WANNA CRY..
Every step to the plane is agony. My body screams rebellion. My mind imagines heroic bathroom breaks that will never happen.
Part of me is grateful to see such a devoted employee but another part of me wanna go to the restroom… Lord have a mercy
My stomach, clearly in revolt, reminds me that I need a toilet. Too late. The clerk is merciless. I will run and suffer.
Somewhere between gate and aircraft, I accept fate. I will board without relief. My legacy: a hero of bodily neglect.
I stand here in the paxbus like a hot garbage.
Now we are waiting in the middle of the road to let a plane pass.
It had to happen now, I am crying
I am going to annihilate the restroom, oh yes you can count on me.
I am a man of words and now this is SHOWTIME.
I finally get to the airplane bathroom and let everything go.
I feel like a Viking releasing the Kraken…
I surrender, I embrace the sweet, stinky freedom. Somewhere, my ancestors nod in solemn approval.
I collapse in seat 12C. My life flashes before my eyes: poor planning, bad digestion, and the small victories of getting a seat.
The legroom
The view on my right
The plane takes off. My stomach still simmers like a volcano. I vow revenge on the clerk’s descendants.
yikes
I stare out the window at Jeju, slowly disappearing.
Somehow, I survived the airport, the waitlist, and the humiliation of my own body.
The turbulence hits. I clutch my armrest.
My stomach lurches in solidarity. I wonder if this is payback for ignoring my earlier warnings.
We got some drinks on board , water , apple/orange juice.
Still appreciate it!
The person next to me reclines aggressively. I pretend to read a magazine but mostly contemplate my poor life decisions.
The dude also close his hublot… BRO YOU BOOKED A WINDOW SEAT FOR WHAT ?
We are landing and I have to look at the other hublot in front of me
The guy eventually decides to open his hublot.
Touchdown. The plane slows. I’ve survived Chuseok airport, the waitlist, a sprint, and my own gut. I am victorious… barely.
I disembark like a war hero, even though the only enemies were logistics and a digestive system that hates me.
Busan welcomes me. The chaos is over. I limp off the plane, carrying the emotional scars of a flight that will never be forgotten.
I survived the impossible: full flight, listless wait, sprinting, and internal betrayal.
And now I know next Chuseok, I book months in advance.
