I used to love commercial air travel. Few things give me a visceral rush like tens of thousands of pounds of controlled thrust provided by a Rolls-Royce or General Electric turbofan engine off the runway. Now I absolutely detest it. Treated like a goddammed criminal, felt-up, and loaded on a tube like freight.
I couldn’t have said it better. If possible, I volunteer for the second exit row if there are two rows next to each other. No reclining seats in front of you and you can recline and have some legroom. I actually have removed the hatch and slid/jumped off of a wing during annual training when I was on flying status.
I always cringe when I see passengers wearing flip flops or other types of similar footwear—the training always reinforced wearing adequate footwear in case you have to exit the aircraft other than the way you got on board.