This isn’t really a flight from hell… but it could have been for two passengers! However, it was Scrimmy to the rescue!
*Play Heroic Theme Music*
Okay, really… I’m quite small. 4’10 and a whopping eighty-nine pounds. Petite little lady, am I. It’s not unusual for people to ask me if I know where my mommy and daddy are–until they realize I have boobs that would not be normal on a nine year old. It’s kind of funny for me, considering I’m in my late-twenties (I make a joke of it and ask if they want to buy me some candy). Flying isn’t usually a problem for me, since I actually have to put effort into taking up space. Hell, I could probably ride quite comfortably in a cup holder.
So I was heading from Alaska to visit some family in Missouri (ticks SUCK! Erm… literally and figuratively). I’ve done the trip before a few times… long, boring, with dull layovers that would drive any immortal insane. I’ve had my fair share of hellish flights, but I’m going to start with something more pleasant. I had to switch planes in Colorado after a gruelingly tedious layover. Fortunately I had only my small carry-on baggie that contained the essentials: iPod, Gummie Bears, water, and an electronic poker game. Everything I could ever want!
It was late in Colorado when I boarded the plane for the three-some-odd hour flight. I found my seat and slipped in. At first I was happy about a window seat–but then I realized it was pitch-black outside, the view was crap, oh well. I was only a few rows back from the bulkhead in Coach, and I enjoyed myself as I watched passengers climb aboard and find their seats. Then this woman sat in the seat directly in front of me, and I kid you not when I say her Afro NEEDS to be featured in Guinness. That thing was amazing! So gloriously huge and poofy, I wanted to climb into it and nest in there… I digress…
I became quite happy when I realized that the steady flow of incoming passengers had stopped, and no one else was in my aisle. I had all three seats to pig out on! There actually were quite a few unoccupied seats, but they were sporadic–an empty seat here, an empty seat there–you get the idea. I was busy being mesmerized by that enormous Afro in front of me when something further up front distracted me… two men in bulkhead seats.
Now, these two men were quite large in different ways; one of them looked like… well, like the illegitimate lovechild of the Michelin Man and a sumo wrestler. I’ve got nothing against plumpin’ people (it’s just more to love!), but this guy went beyond plump… he also went beyond his seat and into the other next to him. I couldn’t see much of the other guy in the window seat, but it really wasn’t too hard to deduce that he was tall and broad–like you would bet money he could kick Bigfoot’s hairy butt. To make things easier, I’ll call the portly guy Bob and the broad guy George.
George, from what I could see, looked a bit squished. I can’t think of another reason you’d have your face planted on the wall of the plane… unless you were intending to eat it. We were experiencing a small delay, one of the FAs assured us we would be taking off in ten or fifteen minutes, but as far as I can remember, she never said why we were delayed. I assume they were locked in furious battle with an unruly airline peanut, and it would take ten or fifteen minutes for them to beat it into submission. So I’m staring up at Bob and George, the incredible Afro of ultimate poofiness completely forgotten, and I thought about things. Time was ticking away, I almost pulled out my Gummie Bears and reenacted Pirates of the Caribbean with them, but finally I made a decision.
I grabbed my baggie of necessities and slipped out of my seat. I made it up front and saw the situation with Bob and George was worse than I’d imagined, three seats just weren’t enough for those two behemoths. Bob was taking up almost two entire seats and George was trying, without success, to make himself as small as possible–he was a healthy dose over six feet and looked like he should’ve been wearing a football uniform rather than a suit. The overall effect was akin to trying to fit a bear and a hippo into a Mazda Miata. It didn’t look like fun–then I realized Bob was giving off a vague yet slightly nauseating sour odor, and while George was looking sharp in a suit, Bob was wearing bibs that appeared to have never made the acquaintance of laundry detergent. I suddenly felt remorse for Bob and George, and was glad I was doing what I was doing.
I smiled and tapped Bob lightly on the shoulder. As soon as I had his attention, I said, “Excuse me, sir… I’m in aisle [whatever aisle I was sitting in, I don't recall] and it’s completely empty and… I get nervous if I’ve got no one to sit next to while flying. Would you be at all interested in trading seats with me?”
The effect was prompt and warmed my dirty little heart–Bob and George gaped at me like I had wings and a halo and was bathed in heavenly light. Bob understood he would get an empty aisle all to himself, and George understood that he’d only have to share his aisle with a borderline midget. Bob immediately accepted my offer to trade and thanked me profusely as he hoisted out of his seats. With Bob’s help, I located his carry-on in the overhead (I was suddenly feeling super-duper helpful), and carried it back to my old aisle and stowed it away for Bob, who happily took up all three empty seats in that aisle. We thanked each other, and I went up to sit with George, who looked in much better spirits, and no longer resembled an injured caterpillar trying to eat the plane. Since I always sit Indian-style, George enjoyed being able to put his yacht-sized feet anywhere he wanted. We eventually took off… I no longer was able to admire that stupendous Afro, but George was very pleasant. He even played some poker with me and treated me to breakfast in Missouri!
One thing that still bothers me, though… Bob did smell unpleasant, and I do feel sorry for the people who had to sit too close to him… including Afro-lady. Oh, Afro-lady! I can only hope your magnificent puff of hair did not wilt!
- Scrimmy
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