ashtrays on aeroplanes

one of the many things that make absolutely no sense.

not even just to me.

we discussed it in our central aisle collection of tightly-packed-together chairs, the kind that only have a bent knee's worth of actual leg room.

the kind that you have to put upright so the person behind you can eat properly off their tray sized foldout table.

it makes no sense because you aren't supposed to smoke on planes, or anywhere really.

there is a sign that says so, emphatically, on both the inside of the door, and on the paper towel bin under the unflatteringly fluorescent-lit bathroom mirror.

above the automatic tap and the miniature sink whose plug hole i can't operate.

but for some reason, there is still a little matchbox-sized ashtray in the foldout toilet door, with a clearly printed image of a burning cigarette, in neat thick bold black lines.

this makes no sense to me.

what could this conveniently shoulder-height-while-sitting-on-toilet ashtray possibly be used for, other than to stub out prohibited cigarettes?

gum disposal?

it makes me think how little sense the entire aeroplane setup makes- another conundrum being the sometimes missing thirteenth aisle.

because even though the aisle after the twelfth aisle is called the fourteenth aisle it's still actually the thirteenth aisle.

basic consecutive numbering logic.

no sense.

at all.

that and the repeated screenings of airline safety videos featuring an annoyingly catchy marketing jingle and misplaced manchester united football player characters.

maybe it's just like that, maybe long distance air travel will never really make sense to anyone who doesn't understand the intricacies of aeronautical engineering and physics.

(me)

i'm inclined to think that the entire concept of travelling to a completely different continent on the other side of the world in the space of one day is actually so ridiculous, that little things like paradoxical ashtrays are understandably overlooked.

unless you're stuck in a badly lit bathroom with swollen feet, on sticky floors, on a few hours sleep, and you'll find anything else to look at.

besides the oddly-placed almost full-length toilet-facing mirror in front of you.