Mom wants me to
share something.
It’s a family story
that seems to always
be brought up.

I was thirteen when I went
on a plane
all by myself.
I was going to North Carolina
to visit my cousins.
Ed had given me first class seats.
I was in A1
on the ride back home
and sitting next to the
window.
The seats were black,
leather,
and cushy.
Everything was grand
until the man sat down
next to me.
I looked at him.
He had white hair and
a matching white mustache.
He was really big.
But that wasn’t the problem.
He smelled.
When I tell you he smelled,
it’s not that “Sniff, oh that
smells odd” type of smell.
It’s that “Sniff, HOLY !@#$%
I’M GOING TO DIE”
smell.
And…
his arms were raised up
over his head.
I didn’t’ want the lady
handing out snacks
to talk to me,
because then I had to
turn to her,
and my face would go
straight into his
sweaty,
Body Oder-invested
armpit.
I seriously felt
like I was going to die.
I sat there looking out
the window,
almost about to cry.
A bucket of
human manure
lit on fire
smelled better than him.
I tried breathing out of
my mouth.
I held my backpack
up to my face.
I looked at him again.
His hands were still
behind his head,
and his bald spot
was shiny.
He had a perfect,
sweaty taco
under his arm.

I couldn’t handle it
anymore.
I was not going to
sit there for
hours
with a wreaking armpit
in my face.
“Sir?”
The man turned his head
just enough to see me
in the corner of his eye.

“Could you please put
your arm down?”

He looked away from me
and grunted.
No movement.
I looked back at the
window
and felt my face
go red.
He grunted again.
Finally,
I felt his arm
brush against mine
and move to the arm seat.
I smiled at him and said
thank you,
but he didn’t look at me.
He sat there
frowning at the wall.
I spent the rest
of the plane ride
looking out the window.
When I went to the bathroom,
he rolled his eyes.

He probably thought I was
some spoiled brat
that was using up all
Daddy’s money
to ride in first class
and go wherever she wanted.

That’s okay,
I wasn’t exactly thinking
happy thoughts
about him either.

Anyway,
my mom wanted me
to share that with you.
And I don’t have anything else
to write about.

So there.

8 Comments

  1. Anonymous

    ha wow, some 1st class seats pff whats the differect 1st class 2nd class, 3rd class who came up with those anyways the only difference is you get to sit by grudly Old McSmelly wich by the way in a point has a great feflexive sheild on his head wich is pretty much pointless on a plane pff I may rather be seating in 3rd class making myself a hero listening to some drama quirk and have to stand listening to them on a flight to wherever (Old McDonald) Loud McCrazy had a seat, riding next to me, on a plane that flies, makes my eyes all dry, problems here some peanuts here Gee I gee I wish I could die O, Loud McCrazy has a mouth who makes me want to ugh…… lol now 2nd class now thats another story that might just become a fairy tale lol
    Thanks for the story, im guessing the trip on the way back was better.


  2. Anne sorry 1st class wasn’t that great. I’ve never sat in first class, but I have flown with a lot of arm rest hogs, which drives me really crazy. Personal space is important to me.


  3. wow, you were pretty brave to do that, I would have NEVER done that. I would have asked the flight attendant if I could move to an empty seat. LOL (but thats just me)


  4. “…a perfect sweaty taco under his arm.” Fantastic. I love it.


  5. Human maneuver? Now that’s a BAD smell. This is one of the stories that defines you as being a whole lot braver than the rest of us.


  6. Hehe! I love this story! It’s one of the reasons why I won’t fly alone. It’s just too creepy!


  7. Pff. I fixed it, Grandma.
    I was sitting there for two minutes
    wondering if it was manure or maneuver.
    Brain fart.


  8. I love this story, Anne, because you did what the rest of us would do if we had the courage. Unfortunately, we’re gutless.

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