It was a pretty full flight; when that’s the case, the best chance of having an empty center seat (since I tend to sit on the aisle) is to go to the BACK of the plane. I didn’t follow my own advice and ended up with the seatmate from hell. Where to start?
First of all, he was a big guy, both tall and wide. Why he would choose to sit between two dudes when there were other center seats further back is beyond me. Then he really did think his “personal item” (which was the size of a carry-on suitcase) could fit under the seat in front of him, which it couldn’t. Fortunately for him (and possibly unfortunately for anyone needing to leave this plane in a hurry, as we were in an exit row) he was able to hide this fact from the flight attendant with his what I can only describe as bell-bottom dress pant legs. I noticed these while he was taking off his SHOES.
You know how we often don’t mind the smell of our own feet? Someone else’s, especially in confined space where I am trapped for the next 90 to 120 minutes. Oh lord.
So then, he opens up and proceeds to eat an entire airport pepperoni pizza. And then a salad SMOTHERED in Italian dressing. Washing it down with a 32-ounce Coke. Keep in mind this is a 90 minute flight; a airport or some peanuts couldn’t tide you over?
I thought the worst of it was over; the pizza and dressing smells had dissipated, I came to accept that I could leap over his bag if I needed to get off the plane through the emergency exit, he was done loudly slurping the last tiny drops out of his monster Coke using a straw (men use straws?) and I had successfully handed over his pile of trash to the flight attendant. Maybe now he will sit for the last 45 minutes of this short flight?
Ah, nothing like a big meal and the gentle rocking of an airplane to help one fall asleep. AND START SNORING LIKE A CHAINSAW. Are you kidding me??
And we wonder why every now and then, someone goes crazy and tries to open the cabin door while in flight…
Shoot me now.
Wayne's Whirled 