Anywho, our next attempt was to sit apart but slide a little closer together so that middle seat looked non-existent under our butts. Then, we would act like we were sick. Every time someone would pass us, we would take turns coughing, sneezing, rubbing our noses with the backs of our hands, etc. That didn’t work either. A grandmother with a baby sat between us. I personally nominated her for grandmother of the year.
So, on this flight, we decided to take a new approach. We began chatting incessantly about anything we could think of. Then, we began giggle. Then, the full laughter began, follow by the snorts. Who would possibly want to sit between two fluffy middle aged women who were giggling together? It almost worked this time, because no one volunteered to sit between us. We were pretty close to the front of the plane, and everyone had walked past us. No one even hesitated like they were considering squeezing in. The flight attendant closed the door, and we thought we were home free. Then, I heard the flight attendant say, “Sir. There’s a seat up here.” Crud.
I’m not sure what our next attempt will be. I’m thinking of working up a sweat so I will am bright red and dripping. Surely to goodness, no one would want to sit by me! (Just ask my family. They usually stay as far away from me as possible after I’ve exercised. I’m a sweater and not the argyle kind.)
The man who is sitting between us seems nice enough. He is meek and mild and skinny. (Thank goodness.) Actually, for those of you who ever watched Conan O'Brien...I'm pretty sure the impression he used to do of a nerd was based on this guy. (But he is pretty nice...just an odd little duck.) The one alarming thing about him is that he is reading a book about China and bombs. I don’t want to talk about it. I’m still on the plane.
All in all, this flight has been an adventure. Before the flight took off, the guys 2 rows behind us made the decree that their Vegas trip had officially begun. They asked ten minutes into drink service when last call would be. They wanted to make sure they didn’t miss. They are very loud but weren't bothering me. It was when the F-bombs started flying that I had reached my limit with them. I keep waiting for the woman who is sitting beside me with her children to launch herself over the back of her seat and rip their mouths off. If she does, I’ll be sure to get a video so you can see it.
You know the flight is loud and bad when a trip to the lavatory is a welcomed break. Typically, I avoid anywhere that I can play a solo game of Twister, but in this case, I might just go back. At least it is quiet in there. I have a few observations about the airplane lavatory that I would like to share for posterity's sake.
First, and this is directly mainly to the boys among us - if you sprinkle when you tinkle, please be neat and wipe the seat. Seriously. Some of us have to sit there.
Second, when you flush a toilet on an airplane, be sure to close the lid first. If not, you may very well blow your ear drums out. On an unrelated note, the next time you see me in public and call my name, don’t be offended if I can't hear you to answer you.
Third, when you are in the lavatory and hear a loud bang, don’t panic. This happened to me. I came out of the restroom, half expecting the back of the plane to be missing. I was really hoping that half would include the potty mouths. Too bad. They were still there.
For the sake of journalistic honesty (yeah, right), I must also reveal that it really stinks when you visit the airplane lavatory and then return to your seat only to realize that the butt of your pants is wet. I don’t want to discuss it.
Be sure to make a note of my lavatory research results. They may save you or a loved one some anguish (or deafness).
On a final note, I would just like to confirm that Americans are, indeed, getting fatter. And in case you didn’t know, I am an American.
Ironically, to finish our flight, the flight attendant just honored the veterans on board and sang "God Bless America." I agree, "God bless us, every one." -Al