For the backstory on this series of posts see here.

My sixth post in this series. Only 636 more to go. If the world ends due to mass corona virus hysteria it will give me an excuse for not finishing this self appointed assignment in my lifetime. OK, randomly flipping the page… to this one!

Your worst experience on an airplane.

Oh man, as someone who has done A LOT of traveling for my job, I have a plethora of experiences to choose from. I’ve narrowed it down to two. One of them was a harrowing flight in the tail end of a hurricane. That one was scary but it wasn’t really funny. Well, except for the guy who refused to buckle his seat belt and went flying into the overhead during a 1000 foot plunge. Probably wasn’t funny to him, but it was to me, at least when I had time to think about it after cleaning off some over spray from the lady behind me that puked. Not enough material for a post though, so I am going with the other one.

I was flying from California to Washington DC. It was a five hour flight. As I was standing in line to check in at LAX I glanced out into the crowd and saw this woman. How do I describe her without being accused of shaming? Let’s just say she was a rather large girl. To the tune of 400+ pounds large. I remember thinking, Sure feel sorry for the person sitting next to her. I completed my check in, got through security, and went to the gate. To pass the time before the flight was called I read a book. After some time had passed I looked up over the top of my book to find the same woman sitting (in two chairs mind you) in the gate area. Uh oh, the odds of me not being the one I would feel sorry for had just been drastically reduced. Come on, I thought, this plane holds like 300 people. Still good odds.

When it was time to board I went in an early group thanks to my frequent flyer status. I settled down in my window seat and got all my stuff situated for the long flight. I always choose a window seat because I don’t like to be disturbed by people that need to get up. I hit the bathroom right before the flight and as long as it is not an international flight, I stay in my seat the whole time. My usual routine would be to pull my book out again and tune out the sounds of others boarding. Not this time. This time I was eagerly watching the progression of the cattle as they made their way down the aisle. As of now, there were still two empty seats beside me and I was very concerned about who my row mates were going to be. Then I saw her. She was having some difficulty walking down the aisle. She had to kind of side shuffle it and her, shall we say, bulk, was slapping people that had already taken aisle seats ahead of me.

I started to chant in my head. Please don’t sit here. Please, please, please not here! As she truffle shuffled her way down the aisle, stopped at my row, and checked her boarding pass, I realized much to my dismay, she was sitting here. What are the odds? I should have bought a lottery ticket. All was not lost though. She had a traveling companion that I would later find out was her husband. This dude was thin as a rail and he took the middle seat beside me. Honey Boo Boo took the aisle seat. When I say took I mean somehow morphed her way into the seat. There was a considerable amount of bulk overflowing in all directions. Her poor husband was smashed up against my seat but I remained relatively unaffected. I said a quick prayer of thanks to the flying Gods and delved back into my book.

When we taxied out to the runway I could swear it looked like the wing tip on our side of the plane was trailing awfully close to the tarmac. Once airborne, I had an image in my head of the pilot having to constantly keep the yoke of the plane cocked to one side to keep the plane level, like when your tires are out of alignment on your car. This thought probably pissed karma off because it decided to bitch slap me.

Once we reached our cruising altitude the flight attendants started the beverage service. That service came to an abrupt halt when it reached our row. Honey Boo Boo’s bulk was hanging so far out into the aisle they could not get the cart past her. This is when karma, through the request of one of the flight attendants, stuck it to me. She asked Honey Boo Boo if she could trade seats with her husband so they could keep the aisle clear. I screamed NOOOOOOOO! But only in my head. My face conveyed that sentiment though.

Honey Boo Boo switched seats and now her hubby was crammed out into the aisle, but not so far as to impede the roach coach’s travel. Me? I was sharing my seat with Boo Boo bulk that had me pressed up against the bulkhead. The side of my face was smashed against the window like I was trying to make funny faces at the birds flying by. The flight attendant asked me if I wanted something to drink. I asked for a soda and when I got it I realized I could not put my tray down to sit it on. That’s how much bulk was distributed throughout the row. Later on during meal service (this was back before they got so cheap and offered it on any long flight) I had to decline as I couldn’t possibly hold the tray in the little space available to me and eat at the same time.

So this is how the next four and a half hours went. At one point the guy in front of Honey Boo Boo tried to recline his seat. Not happening bud! Too much bulk in the way too allow it. That didn’t stop him from trying though. I think he thought there was something wrong with his seat. He started to slam back and forth into the seat back like he was trying to unstick it. Every time he did this the seat would slam into Honey Boo Boo’s immovable mass and bounce it back like a trampoline. She would utter this audible grunt on each try but she never said anything to the guy. Neither did bean pole hubby. I thought about saying something but with my face and accompanying mouth pressed up against the window, I could hardly form any intelligible words. When I asked for the soda earlier it sounded like I was speaking in tongues.

When we landed in DC I was never more happy to be in that wretched hive of scum and villainy. When Honey Boo Boo and Beanpole got up I finally got my first maximum lungs capacity of air I had been able to take in four hours. I almost passed out from the excess oxygen. That’s my worst experience on a plane, other than having to sit in a middle seat, but let’s face it, that’s everyone’s worst experience. Got a bad flying experience story? Tell me about it in the comments. Or better yet, come tell me and others about it in the Just A Small Chat Room! I’ve had a few people drop in since I’ve opened it with one regular visitor. I won’t name names but she likes chickens and taking pictures of rocks and food. So the rest of you get your asses in there! I know a lot of you are at work during my peak availability but I have some advice for you. Screw work! Open a spreadsheet and hide the chat window behind it. Your boss will never know and I am sure that Kevin from IT can be persuaded to keep his mouth shut with a Mountain Dew and Pepperoni Hot Pocket bribe. Also, as much as I know it would pain you to miss me, I don’t have to be in there for you to chat among yourselves. So come on and let’s see if we can break the record of three people in the chat room at one time. You are going to be COVID-19 quarantined soon anyway. Might as well do it to pass the time. Just wash your hands before you come in.

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