Jun 30, 2009

Stinks on a plane

I'm safely back on the surface of the sun after 10 mostly rainy but otherwise quality days with the family in New York.

The 3 and a half hour journey from JFK to DFW was an interesting one.

I could go on at length about the fact that i had a screaming toddler directly behind me who wouldn't settle, who spent about 3 hours and 29 minutes of the flight attempting to detatch the tray table from the back of my seat.

I could talk about the fact that the aformentioned toddler's parents kept doing the tag team thing to try and tame the beast and their other seat (in the 4 across plane) was the window seat next to my aisle seat and i had to keep getting up as they high-fived and dove in the ring for another round with little satan. But let's leave them alone because we've all been there and suffered the glowers of 200 other people, while our kid decided to have the meltdown of their lives and there was absolutely nothing short of killing them we could do about it.

I'm not going to mention the fact that it was 8000 degrees on the plane and the the "personal fan" was constructed to cool the brows of those 5'5" and under and couldn't be adjusted to the correct angle to cool my 6'4" noggin.

No we're going to talk about odor. Stink. People's stink.

It was a muggy day in New York the day we departed. I had worked up a bit of a sweat a few hours before we left playing in the band in my Dad's church. Aware of the fact that I was to be sitting in close proximity to other humans in a relatively small (and as it turned out, hot) metal tube, I took a shower.

Unfortunatley it would seem that i was sitting in the section of the plane where many of the other passengers opted to skip attempts at personal hygiene that day and just smell the way God intended them to which in some case was a cross between dirty diapers and wet dog. Yum yum yum delish.

But those are not atop my worst offened list by any means. No. That hallowed spot is reserved for the people who knowing full well they are sitting in close proximity to other humans and its 8000 degrees and we already have a potpurri of man stink going on, decided that they need to share their ass stink with the world too. That's right gas. Farts. Farting on a plane. A metal tube with no real source of ventilation. A metal tube with other human beings literally touching you. Awesome.

Now it was a 7:30 flight and i'm sure that for a great many people this was just a natural reaction to their bodies digesting whatever they'd eaten for dinner but for the love of all things holy exercise some sphincter control or go squish yourself into the pokey little bathroom located only 6 rows back and have a gassy fiesta.

I actually got to the point where all i had left to wish for was that the flatulence would make the screaming, tray table killing, flailing devil child behind me succumb to the fumes and pass out.

Interesting flight.

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