I was once on a flight from my childhood home of Burlington VT to Atlanta. I spent the weekend with some old friends from high school. The night before my flight was spent sitting on bar stools, doing what old friends tend to do. We stayed up late into the night and I was prepared to head to the airport on little sleep, and take the first plane out. I am happy to say that I rarely get hangovers and this day was no exception – but the lack of sleep caused me to be grumpier than usual and slightly in pain.
I got an aisle seat, put in my iPod and settled in for a nice long nap back to the South when the man across the aisle from me whips out a gallon-sized plastic bag filled (FILLED!) with tuna fish and mayonnaise. He then positions himself so he is facing me and proceeds to eat the entire contents, all the while breathing directly at me.
No matter what position I put my head in, the warm, tuna fishy breath of this passenger seemed to creep into my nose. No sleep for me.
{ 4 comments… read them below or add one }
I had a tuna sandwich earlier, so I'll be polite and not breathe on you.
You must have a beak like a parrot and a super smelling over sized device in that schnozzle. I bet you look like an old time indian chief.
Cut the guy a break. Maybe he was a bodybuilder on a special diet. Tuna tastes better than airline food but I'm sure you know that.
I want some tuna now.
Hardly a hell flight, but I understand if this is the best you've got. Tuna breath gets tiring.