So, I’m currently sitting on the airplane, about an hour into my flight to Utah. I’ll just copy and paste this later, but while I’m the middle of this hell known as flight #1855, I may as well write. A couple of days ago, a co-worker and I were discussing flights and I said, “hopefully I’ll end up without having screaming children, stinky people, or obnoxious people next to me and no children kicking the back of my seat.” Well, the children are plentiful but not screaming yet…otherwise, I totally jinxed myself.
I have never had to use the vomit bags on a plane before (though my sister Kodi has—funniest story ever, but I can’t think too much about vomit or I will completely wretch at this point, so I’ll have to save the story for another time); I have had to seriously consider using the “Feel Better” bag on this flight. The man and woman next to me are a lovely couple…if you enjoy men with fingernails two inches long and completely dirty, a lot of loud chatter, and having your seatmates eat the stinkiest food one could smell. I seriously have no clue what it is—it looks like very damp pita chunks that were baked with a whole heap of nasty. When they first opened their carry-on bag to pull out said grossness, I concurrently smelled what I assumed to be a skunk. I thought…how odd that the skunk smell is coming through the air vents. (Keep in mind I’m going on three hours of sleep here and haven’t fared much better many nights this week.) Then it dawned on me that the plane could not have hit a skunk (don’t worry—it didn’t take too long to come to this conclusion).
This led me to start looking around me for the source of the abomination. Turns out I only needed to look a couple of inches to my right. Now, the couple is Asian and I do love me some Asian people, but I think the food they clearly learned to cook in the motherland should not have made its way with them to America. It is complete and total air pollution. Polar bears are drowning because of these people's cooking and ensuing pollution. I was eating my tasty Biscoff cookies (incidentally, my favorite—I heart Biscoff cookies) and then BAM!...almost instant vomit. So, I did what any sane person who doesn’t want to vomit in public did-—I turned away from the stench source, put my finger under my nose so I could just smell Biscoff remnants, and took the smallest breaths possible. I thought I’d either hyperventilate or sniff so hard my finger would be inhaled. It finally got to the point that the smell was dying down…and then they went for seconds. Out came the Ziplock of Putridity AKA the skunk that had been ran over 100 times and left in the baking sun with a bit of sewage poured on top of him came back to life. I prayed they would nibble quickly and feel satisfied with their consumption. I think my prayer may have been answered as the food has seemingly been tucked away. Darin is the only person who will appreciate this, but Darin, think Nebraska feed lot and combine that with limited air supply. It’s a miracle I’m alive.
So, in other fun, I’ve got the pre-teen girl in front of me who thinks it’s great to keep turning on and off the overhead light, while bouncing all over the place in her chair (my laptop screen touches the back of the seat so it’s a jiggling away); I also have the little boy behind me that is attempting to make seatback kicking an Olympic sport. He would take the gold without a doubt. Giving his parents crusties has not worked yet. (I indeed gave them “the look”…how else will they learn?)
OK, I reckon that’s enough griping. Anyone who has spent any time around me when I’m tired and hungry would well be able to picture the look on my face and the bitterness I’m exuding right now. However, in good news not only did I enjoy my cookies, but I also have the coolest TV screen in front of me. It’s cooler than the typical seatback TVs on normal planes. This has HBO, Food Network, 10 movie options, complete CDs of any genre, and it’s all touch screen. I can even control the headset volume and overhead light though the screen. I tried to listen to Madonna’s “The Confessions Tour” CD, but I wasn’t overly impressed. So, I’ve moved on to The Killers new CD. (Side note: the little pre-teen beast is about to get more than just my knee punching the back of her seat if she keeps it up. I am passively aggressively sending a message while bruising my knee in the process. Good times.)
Anyway, the music is excellent, the cookies delicious, and I have been able to get some work down for my site. So, that’s all a bonus. And, as I just typed that last sentence, my little female neighbor reached for the food bag again. I got a whiff of the stinky and was sure I was doomed…but apparently she just bumped that bag while getting out a most-delicious smelling orange. I can handle orange. I heart orange. I’m currently thanking the good Lord above for oranges. It was a great idea. Go God! OK, so I’m sure I’ll be cast to Hell for that one, but maybe not as I am giving Him props. Anyway, I’m off to contemplate my eternities of suffering that are sure to ensue. And, I’ll also be thinking of how excited I am to be going to Utah for the week. Wahoo!!!!!
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