January — flight from Fort Lauderdale to Minneapolis/St Paul.
SO what’s the absolute worst thing that can happen on a plane? Well, it happened to me. Actually, the second worst thing happened to me. THE absolute worst thing happened to the lady who was sitting behind me, next to the antagonist.
Guy in the 2nd to the last row poops in his pants about 10 minutes into the flight — we’re talking the big D here, and I think he’d been eating seafood all week. Really really terrible. Anyway, he didn’t even try to wash it out of his pants – he just sat there in his own poo… for over three hours.
The flight attendants were actually pretty terrific — handing out bags of coffee grounds for us to hold up to our noses. I actually went into the bathroom to ESCAPE the smell of the cabin! That was the closest I ever felt to air rage – I think we all would have tossed him off the plane if we could have figured out a way to do it. What a jerk.
The flight attendants thoughtfully cracked the back door of the plane once we arrived at the gate. For a few brief moments, sweet, cold, odor-free air circulated rapidly around the cabin. Mr. Poopy Pants immediately jumps us and screams “Oooohh that’s Coooooold” and starts pushing past everyone saying, “I gotta get inside this is just too cold. Please close the door.” Given the choice of five more minutes of stench vs. poo-stained passengers, the flight attendants closed the door.
As my wife and I were leaving the gate, I saw him being whisked to his next flight by a skycap, still in his poop-soaked drawers.
I gave him the finger.