She traveled a lot for business when I was young, but she never got over her flying anxieties, so she had something with her (probably Ativan. Hell, it was the 80's, they might have just given her opium) for those times that she couldn't cope. If memory serves, she was coming back from the east coast on a non-stop flight (to California, that's generally about 6 hours) and they were hitting turbulent "weather" left and right so she took a pill. Next thing she knows, she's being woken up by a flight attendant. She was the last person on the plane, it was only the flight crew left and they were all standing there holding their purses, tapping their toes.
Embarrassed, she leaped up and grabbed her luggage and headed out of the plane. She didn't realize how drowsy she still was until she reached the exit - this was back in the olden days (or still today, at Long Beach airport!) when they used stair cars to load passengers. At the top of the stairs, she grabbed the handrail, took a deep breath, and.... slid down all the stairs on her butt, bumping each one on the way down. By the time she met my dad and me at baggage claim, she looked like she'd gone three rounds with Mike Tyson.