In the past month alone, I’ve been on nine
airplanes. I can’t do it now, because it wasn’t prepared, but I think in the future, I’m going to begin interviewing the people sitting next to me on planes, because they’re all so different.
Last night between Orange County and San Jose, I sat next to someone who I thought would sleep the whole flight. Not so lucky. It turned out she was completely drunk, and liked to elbow me and say “So, you scared of flying”. I answered that question with a “no” three times, and just for giggles, said “oh yes, terrified” once. She wasn’t keeping track.
Due in part to her inebriated confusion, the noise on the plane, and the fact that she was too far gone to make any sound judgment, she ordered two straight rums, and downed them in four swallows cumalative. After the second drink, she asked me “Did he bring my drinks yet?” and I, detecting that she might be interested in having more, decided to lie. I told her that she had already had at least four straight rums, and that she was completely out of money. She agreed with me, and passed out mid sentence. The lady to my left and I had a discussion about the situation, and she commended me for tricking her into not drinking more.
On my second flight, the lady next to me had some kind of “pooping often” problem. I can only come to this conclusion because there was a smell involved. She had the window, I had the aisle, and in a span of 100 minutes, she got up at least eight times.
Now, upon giving it some thought and consideration, I figured something out. Everyone, and I mean everyone, is tweaked and freaked out in some way. You have just to sit next to me on a plane to find out how crazy you are.