I like to go places, see things and meet people. I just hate the process of getting there and back.
How much do I hate it, notably airline travel? Let me count the ways... I hate time inefficiency. I hate waiting around. I hate delays, mechanical or weather or otherwise. I REALLY hate missed connections and cancelled flights.
I hate a whole day to get somewhere, another whole day to get back, and then another day to recover from the process.
I hate being herded like cattle. It's inhumane, and inhuman.
I hate security checks and all that goes along with them. Particularly when they're at the end of a maze of those snaky crowd control stanchions, filled with six or eight hundred people ahead of you.
I hate oversold flights, and no backup or reserve should the inevitable hit the fan. Which in my case, it usually does. I can't remember the last time I was on a plane that was less than full.
I hate people rushing the gate to get on the plane only to have to stand in the gangway for 15 minutes while the crowd funnels into the plane.
I hate overhead bins and people who carry on stuff way too big and then try to stuff ten pounds of crap into a five pound bin. The airlines have it all wrong. They should check bags for free and charge $25 for carrying on a second item. Would that speed up loading and unloading? Which, now that I think of it, was WAY more efficient when they started loading from the rear. But that went out the window with the advent of priority boarding, even if you're not handicapped or have little kids in tow.
I hate instructions about how to buckle my seatbelt, and the drill about the oxygen mask. Puhleeze.
I hate airline seats designed for someone 5'6" and 150 lbs. I hate sitting in the row BEHIND the exit row (not by choice) and having the woman in front of me with all the legroom decide she has to recline her seat and break my kneecaps. I don't mind digging my broken kneecaps into the middle of her back a dozen times or so over the next five hours. The pain is worth the sense of retribution.
I hate people who don't bathe or use deodorant. And people who break wind. Just hold it, would ya, or go to the lavatory? Jeez.
I hate people who bring a screaming kid who obviously has an ear infection or something onto a plane, then lets him scream for the next two hours without getting up and walking him around, giving him some water or something to do or otherwise try to hush him. Or, go to the lav and sit in there with him. Things almost got ugly on the SFO-EWR redeye I was on last night. I wound up back in the galley to get away from the screaming, having to limp back there due to my busted kneecaps.
I hate to feel like someone's giving me a treat in a cup with ice and half a can of soda. Although, I will say the flight attendants slipped free drinks to anyone last night who sought refuge from the screaming. I had about four.
But, like everything else, travel has it's bright spots. I LOVE digging into my bag to get out my keys once I'm finally back on home turf. I LOVE to sit in my own car and drive home. And I LOVE the feel of my own bed, with someone warm and familiar beside me.