Finally booked a flight to head back to New York in August. As much as I’m missing New York and can’t wait to see my friends, family and the City, part of me is most excited about getting another round of Delta’s in-flight trivia.
Have you given this thing a try? Basically you play trivia against anyone else on the plane, but the great thing about it is that it tells you the seat number of the person you’re playing with.
And for the entire flight, I have a nemesis.
I can’t get enough of it. Especially if I’m winning on a regular basis that means there is someone else on the flight who I don’t have to wave a pretentious book or piece of knowledge in front of to let them know I’m smarter. And for somebody who works a crappy day job while STILL pursuing a BACHELOR degree IN THE ARTS, this is all I’ve got. For all my abilities with trivia and assumed “knowledge” I’ve managed to shun all opportunities of using that knowledge towards making money and have utterly fucked myself. So trivia is it. It’s all I got, and without question it’s the best part of air travel.
I’ve also noticed that the better the person’s seat is that I’m beating, the better I feel about myself. If someone got to the point in life where they can afford the extra-legroom seat and I’m winning, I feel pretty good. I feel great if I’m beating someone in business class, and if I can knock off a first classer, there’s an extra kick in my step for a solid week. Now I want to take on the pilot. I managed to fail at everything else, but not this. Here – on my Priceline discount airfare that requires me to transfer twice and get in at 4 A.M. because it’s the only thing my $10/hour job can garner, this is where I get my victory.
The problem is that getting really invested in the trivia can backfire spectacularly when you get up and spy on your nemesis. One time I got really worked up because I had barely eked out a win, spectacularly coming back from far behind and winning by just a couple points after half-assing it for the first half. I got up to go take a look at the person who I had defeated – fully prepared to rub it in his or her face – just to find out that it was a 10-year-old kid who had been clicking randomly.
And back to work we go.