On a relatively quick flight from Dallas to Orlando, I was seated next to a pretty cool guy around 28-29 years old. I usually refrain from talking to people on planes to maintain my sanity and to make sure there aren’t any false senses of friendship which lead to hours of conversation. About 20 minutes into the flight this guy breaks the silence and starts talking about how he’s from Vancouver, Oregon and is in construction. He asks me what I do, and I reply that I’m a college student majoring in psychology… This is where I went wrong.
Despite that I have no real qualifications to psychologize people as a student, he immediately opens up about his relationship woes over the years. He passes me an “airborne fizzy” and informs me about his inability to commit, his attraction to noncommittal girls and how he can’t seem to get his life on track. Notably, he mentions that he’s only going to Orlando to meet his stripper girlfriend he met a short time ago, and that he’s worried because she has a child and he may not be ready to be a father yet. I didn’t really buy the stripper deal, but whatever.
This all leads him to ask me, “So you’re in Psychology, what do you think I should do? Do you think I should marry this girl?” How the hell should I know what he should do! I just want to go to Epcot Center, maybe the Animal Kingdom, and this guy wants me to make his life decisions on a three hour flight? By the way, my girlfriend is sitting next to me in the window seat, and here I am trying to parse through this guy’s relationship problems with my girlfriend rolling her eyes wondering why I wasn’t more committed. I try and tell him that his decisions are his own, but at the same time he should not pass up opportunities he might regret. This continued all the way until landing where we made that awkward walk to the baggage claim.
While waiting for the bags, I noticed a pretty attractive gal waiting on the other side of the carousel. She had pink streaks in her hair, and was wearing a short skirt and tank top. I quietly thought to myself, “Wow, that girl looks like a stripper.” At that moment the tormented man runs over and gives her a giant hug and at the same time embraces her son next to her. They walk off out of the airport hand in hand with smiles all around.
Good luck to you tormented relationship guy! Hopefully you committed yourself to that gal and her son and have made a life for yourself.
- Formerpsych
As a businessman, I constantly travel in and outside the continental U.S. For various reasons I have experienced nothing out of the ordinary for the past 10 years. All that was about to change, though.
Last week I boarded a flight from Houston to LAX and took my seat in the first class section (not bragging since my company pays for the flight, but it is crucial to the story). Most of the passengers board and I still do not have any seatmates.
This is great, I thought to myself, but as soon as I was getting comfortable two very attractive women sit in the seats next to me. Which normally is a very welcome sight as well. Well, all that was about to change.
Mid-flight I awoke from my short nap and found the two women next to me kissing… passionately. I was a bit disconcerted at first, but decided to mind my own business and close my eyes again. Well not 5 minutes later the kissing escalated even further and the women were beginning to grunt and move over into my seat brushing against my arm.
Not knowing what to do, I nervously scooted closer to the window. At this moment, an FA passed by and tapped one of the women on the shoulder and said that their behavior was unacceptable and she would have to seperate them if it continued.
I breathed a sigh of relief and closed my eyes again, but not before I heard one of them say “Dang, a couple more minutes and we would have gone far enough to join the club.”
- Disturbed Passenger
Tagged as:
sexuality
I am a travel agent, specializing in the Caribbean and Mexico. I have had many crazy flight experiences, but last year on a flight to Jamaica really takes the cake! My co-workers and I were ready for a week in paradise away from our clients and boarded our plane in Charlotte for what we thought would be the beginning of our relaxation!
We were wrong. My co-worker Jenny and I were seated in a window/middle and as we approached our seats, we noticed a couple sitting in our exact seats. We asked them if they wouldn’t mind getting their tickets out to see if we were accidentally in the wrong row or if they were (we knew we weren’t). The guy (late 20s) was frantically searching, standing in the aisle holding up the people behind us. We tried to squeeze into another row to let people by but he would not move! Jenny and I knew from this point on, it was going to be an interesting flight! The woman with the guy was screaming at him to get the tickets, asking where they were, what their seats were, etc. Once they found them, they discovered that they were in fact in our row, but were BOTH in the aisles.
Jenny and I took our seats and proceeded to listen to them berate their travel agent about seating them both on the aisle instead of together, because this was their wedding trip and they couldn’t believe what a rip-off this whole thing was, because they made thousands of dollars and wanted to sit together. I have to pause here to say that had they not been so loud and rowdy, Jenny and I probably would have offered our seats, but they were out of control yelling and cussing, so we snuggled together and tried to relax.
Their ruckus did NOT end there. Within 20 minutes, I was trying to ignore my motion sickness and get some sleep, and they started (or continued, I should say) drinking heavily. I woke up to the most horrible stench of Jack Daniels being splashed into a THIRD cup, the gentlemen who was sitting next to me mixing up yet another strong beverage. I looked at Jenny who confirmed that he was well on his way to sloshed. During the course of his drinking, we discovered that they were getting married at a Sandals resort in Jamaica; they had NEVER flown anywhere and couldn’t believe that they had to pay $7 a drink.
They also hated each other. They fought, cussed and yelled at each other the ENTIRE flight. At one point, very drunkenly, the man stood up in the aisle, made a “gun” with his finger and thumb and said (and I quote), “Can you believe I’m marrying this b*tch?!!?” and pulled the imaginary trigger! The entire plane was watching with awe as she stood up and pointed her finger his face and said “What? You couldn’t get better than THIS… I’m the best there is… you think you can HAVE this?!?!” What’s worse is that the flight attendants were obviously entertained as they NEVER cut them off. They just kept bringing them both drinks, no matter how belligerent they got!
It was no surprise to find out that none of their family would join them in their union on the beach after three hours of similar behavior. Finally, with about 30 minutes left in our flight, the man passed out with his head in the aisle and he finally quit chugging beers… but not before he looked directly at Jenny and me, looked over our shoulder to see that we were still CLEARLY in the sky and say “Are we still flying?!!?” We could no longer hold back. We started laughing profusely!! The couple in front of them and the couple behind us joined in and the guy had no idea what we were laughing at.
On the descent into Jamaica, he unbuckled his seat belt, stood up and put his arms out to announce that HE was the “king of the world,” only to be slammed into his seat when our plane landed on the runway.
I really wanted to follow them through Customs, as I’m sure there was more ruckus to come, but unfortunately we had a place to be, bags to catch and drinks to enjoy… I have to say, I’ve never seen a couple getting married act so strangely! It was the longest least relaxing flight to Jamaica I’ve ever had, but obviously UNFORGETTABLE!
Tagged as:
alcohol,
seats
My husband is the worst air-traveler; he doesn’t follow the rules and always wears the most security-risking, time-consuming accessories and shoes. After 25 years of trying to convince him there’s a better way, he still dresses like this when flying.
This flight from hell actually took place after the flight, and took place just before 9/11. At the time, my husband and I were living in Bucks County PA and took a flight from Newark to Myrtle Beach. The first leg was fine, but the return was going to be remarkable, I just knew it in my gut.
When we arrived at MYR, I asked my husband (who had just finished the last cigarette from his pack) if he wanted a new pack of cigarettes from my backpack so he’d have them when we disembarked in Newark. He said no. I asked him to be sure he had everything packed and nothing on his person, as I am stuffing the last items into my backpack before going through security. Suddenly, I notice my husband wanders toward security without me, oh well. Next thing I know he’s being pulled over and several security agents are around him… doofus forgot to pack his pocket knife, so he was promptly scorned by the agents and had to go back to the counter to retrieve his checked bag in order to stow the knife.
We finally board and he immediately orders 2 margaritas and continued this practice throughout the flight. I had a few too, but he was quite smashed upon landing. I knew I’d better keep him in check or all hell would break loose. As we were departing the plane, my husband bypasses the auto walk I just stepped on and makes a beeline for the bar saying I’m going to have a smoke! I told him he can’t smoke in there and that he should come with me to baggage claim so we could go outside and smoke while waiting for the bags. He ignores me and proceeds to the bar and I called back “meet me in baggage,” thinking he would do so promptly as soon as he realized he had no cigarettes.
That’s almost the last time I saw him in about 2-1/2 hours. I got the bags and waited and waited. Since I was on the opposite side of security from the bar, I couldn’t go looking for him, but at one point stood just outside security and briefly saw my very confused looking husband walk right past security (the exit he should have taken) and off toward the international terminal! Not a good sign.
After having him paged several times, I decided to take the monorail out to the farthest lot (figures) to put the bags in the car. I had little hope that my lost husband would be there, and he wasn’t. So I left a note on the windshield saying “STAY HERE!” I began to wonder if he would even remember where the car was parked. I went back to the monorail station and asked a security agent if he could check at headquarters to see if my husband had been arrested as I was sure he had done something stupid by then. He suggested I have him paged; I told him I already did. He checked and said they didn’t have him in custody.
After several trips back-and-forth, I finally was reunited with a very tired, sad and sober man (found him napping on a bench near the locked car). We proceeded along on our 2-hour drive home from the airport as I listened to his unbelievable tale…
I was right, he tried to get arrested… apparently, he quickly realized he couldn’t smoke at the bar, but proceeded to have a beer. Then he realized he didn’t have cigarettes and somehow made his way out onto the tarmac to “bum” one! He never did. He became very upset that he couldn’t find me and said he had me paged as well. He got to the breaking point and told me he laid down on the ground directly in front of the parking gate exit in order to get arrested, because that way someone would find me. Nope, they ignored him and cars drove around him! I guess it wasn’t long after that he sobered up and realized going to the car would be best. I was furious as we should have been home by then.
Needless to say, I try not to travel with him anymore, but when I do and I’m not happy about something, I just say “remember Newark!” and he plays by my rules.
Tagged as:
airport,
alcohol,
security,
tobacco
