Sunday, February 21, 2010

I only hook up at 1ft - 4ft in the air, I get more points that way...

I don’t make a habit of talking to people much on flights after my experience on a 6am New Year’s Day flight several years ago. I was sitting with an older couple from Green Bay, WI. They were covered head to toe in Green Bay Packer paraphernalia; they shared their excitement with me about this being their first time on a plane…EVER. I was hung-over, BAD. I could smell the vodka seeping out of my pours but they didn’t seem to mind that I had not slept all night and just partied until I got on the plane at 6am. Still drunk, Guido hair still done up and a layer of makeup that did not seem to make sense with the sweat pants and hoodie I was now wearing. I was still covered in glitter and a nights worth of bad decisions but, I stayed awake while they showed me pictures of their 4 kids, grand kids and pets.
While sharing a pb & j sandwich she had packed from home in wax paper, I learned they are retired, she likes to knit, collects dolls, she loves her new lawn ornament that her husband made in his workshop, bakes treats, still enjoys the lost art of letter writing, he like likes sports, Letterman, recently got a John Deere….all on a 2 hour plane trip. They were a super sweet Midwest couple and I hope I will be that happy when I am old. Lesson learned – You can get drunk and do stupid shit but god and the airlines know each other and will make YOU PAY one jelly sammich at a time..
So when I was about 26 yrs old I was on a red-eye, Southwest flight from Las Vegas to Nashville. The flight was less than half full and this super dorky guy kept trying to talk to me. He looked like every other middle-aged guy traveling for business. He had what I call the “IT Guy Body” (orby middle section, slumped down shoulders and skinnnny arms because they just look at porn and play games never getting movement beyond their wrists) the work logo windbreaker jacket, polo shirt, khakis, appropriate shoes and an overall look of “I hate my life”…

We were flying over an unbelievable thunderstorm and I just wanted to look out the window and watch the storm from above the clouds, but he kept bugging me and moved into the seat next to me. He was asking me stupid questions and I was trying to be polite but was just answering yes, no or oh. Hoping he would go away. So I am half ass listening to him, then, not caring that he was talking to a woman who wasn’t really paying attention…He leans over all pervy like, put his hand on my arm and whispers to me:

“Soooo…are you a member of the mile high club?”

To which my response was “No, I normally fly Northwest” dead serious.
He giggled like I was kidding…I wasn’t. I had no idea what he was talking about. Why does this dude care if I collect frequent flyer miles? Idiot. Thennnn it hit me…wait! What the hell did he just ask me!?

Me: Are you married? (Looking at the ring on his left hand)

Him: well ya

Me: Is your wife picking you up from the airport?

Him: Umm, why?

Me: What the fuck are you doing talking to me? Seriously? Get back in your seat over there or I will make this the worst flight of your life, and will be sure to introduce myself to her at baggage claim.

It’s amazing…A) how completely oblivious and ditzy I can be sometimes and B) how fast a dude can get back in his seat when he realizes I am not as cool as I look.

We give him 1.5 Truck Nutz...for the effort.

1 comment:

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