I had heard that "crack" kills. I just never really believed it until I saw it with my own eyes.
About 3 years ago I was 6 months pregnant and had two daughters (aged 4 and 5). We were all traveling from Bellingham, WA to Atlanta, GA with a VERY brief layover in Dallas. We were booked on a major airline that should remain anonymous as they are a bunch of asshats (but they rhyme with "Mamerican Mairlines") and we had to leave for the airport at 3:30 AM in order to catch our 7AM flight. It was Suck City.
By the time our car arrived in Seattle my husband and I were barely speaking to each other and the girls had marks on their faces and arms from the backseat smack-down they had while out of our reach. When I went to the counter to speak with the representative she informed me that even though our seats had been purchased many months ago and seat assignments had been given all of that had changed and we were no longer sitting together as a family.
I took a moment to absorb this information and was on the verge of freaking out about how our two little girls absolutely couldn't sit alone, etc. That's when her last sentence sunk in, "Your husband is seated next to your kids, but, unfortunately, you'll have to sit in another row..."
REALLY?! I don't have to sit next to two little girls who are hell bent on scratching each others eyes out?? I don't have to sit next to my husband who was a total prick all morning??! Well smack me and call me Alice I think I just won the fucking lottery!!
I'm afraid I might have been smirking by the time I got back to the hubs and the girls. I gently broke the news to Mr. Bex by saying, "BWAH hahahahah HAAAAAAAA!! I don't have to sit with you guys!!! Teee, heee, heeee.... Yep! I'm ALL by myself in another aisle! Sucks to be you, huh? Doesn't it suck?? I'll bet it REALLY sucks...!"
So he sluffed and I skipped all the way to the plane. I kissed my pretty girls and watched my husband schlep them and all of our shit through the cabin door - the one I was not yet allowed to enter due to my not having any kids with me. Woo hoo!
They finally called my row number and I happily boarded the flight and sashayed (as much as I am capable of sashaying when prego) my way down the plane. My eyes were traveling faster than my pregnant body could go in anticipation of seeing what darling creature I'd have the pleasure of sharing the next 3 hours with. Maybe somebody famous? Maybe a cute young man I could make blush uncomfortably with my risque comments?? The possibilities were unlimited.
That's when I saw it. A row of three seats with only the one in the middle available. On either side were two MORBIDLY obese teenagers. They had literally taken up all three seats with their enormous asses. I'm sure that the horror splashed across my face and then sent jolts through my body. So I just walked on past like it wasn't my seat and went to my family (in the back row) and said my husband, "Hey, you know what? I just realized that I was being a total bitch this morning. Hormones, you know?? Why don't you take my seat, and I'll take yours. You can relax, get a break from the kids, that kind of thing..."
He laughed at me. That fucker laughed at me! He said, "No way, Bex. You were so happy to be on your own. You just go enjoy yourself while squeezed between the two fattest people I've ever seen. Mwah! Say bye-bye to Mommy, girls!!!"
A flight attendant came up to me and instructed me to sit down and I whispered the problem. She whispered back that the flight was full and I was fucked. "Take your seat, please."
So I walked up to my row and told the kid on the aisle that I was sitting between them. He stood up by turning side ways and unwinding himself from the seat, not unlike removing a cork from a wine opener. Oh holy hell this was going to suck.
They both had the armrests up to allow the free flowing fat situation into the middle chair so when I sat down I brought both armrests down with me in an effort to stake my claim to my seat and airspace. He looked at me as if I'd taken a crap in the chair but wisely said nothing.
He wound himself back into the chair where his flabby ass oozed under the armrest and wrapped itself around my hip. Yikes! Not to be outdone, his arm and back fat slowly wrapped around my arm in a serpentine fashion, covering more than 50 percent of my arms circumference. I was literally wearing his fat like a fucking parka. His sister was also obese but not to the point where her fat involuntarily tried to mount my skin. But to say I was sandwiched in fat would be a gross understatement.
I don't do yoga. I don't meditate. But I sure as hell tried that day to close my eyes and to go to my "happy place". No luck. No, I learned that morning that there is no happy place if you are involuntarily wearing someone else's fat. If he had been a man I would have said, "Excuse me, kind sir. But you seem to have enveloped a part of my person. Please get the fuck off of me." But these two were in their middle teens and I just didn't feel right by pointing out what they must already really know - that they were officially ready to join the circus.
I soon realized that the two people in front of us were none other than their parents. As soon as the plane took off the Dad (sitting right in front of me) leaned his seat back, practically lying it on top of my pregnant stomach. All of a sudden I felt like I was going to puke, freak out and pull a Dunkin' Donuts all at once. I totally panicked. So I jumped up on top of my seat and leaped over Jabba the Hut to safety. Then, like any reasonable person, I burst into tears and locked myself in the crappy, tiny bathroom.
My husband started knocking on the door asking if I was ok but I didn't answer it because I was too busy trying to figure out how I could cut him up and feed him to the family I was supposed to sit with. Then a flight attendant banged on the door and I thought, "Fuck it all. I'm going to sit here on this disgusting toilet for the next 3 hours. I don't care how much of that blue shit splashes on me, either."
She kept banging, though, so I opened up so I could tell her to go piss up a rope but she said, "Oh, Honey. I'm so sorry. I know, I know. It's completely unacceptable. The flight is completely full, but you can have my jump seat."
I gratefully followed her to freedom which was enclosed in the little kitchen area - directly next to and facing the Fat Kids mother. Who had the balls to give me a dirty look! My entire left side smelled completely of her disgusting son and somehow I'm the designated asshole. Right. So I tried to ignore her hateful stare while I balanced on a 6 inch plank of metal that drops out of the wall designed to support the bony ass of a flight attendant for five minutes while the plane takes off and lands. But I'm the asshole. Whatever.
Here is the thing: I frankly don't care if you're fat. Be obese. Be a shut in who has to be removed from the house via helicopter while Richard Simmons cheers from the curb. I don't give a shit. But I should not have to wear you on an airplane if I don't want to. If you don't fit in a plane seat, you need to buy two. Period.
Instead of the Mile High Club I should start a Mile Fat Club. If you've ever sat next to somebody a mile wide, let me know and I'll send you a membership card.
You think you know, but you have no idea. We've earned our stripes, one twinkie at a time.
I'm going to feed a fat kid to Humor-Blogs.com to see what happens. My guess? - a big belch.
xoxo
(Bless his heart.)
About 3 years ago I was 6 months pregnant and had two daughters (aged 4 and 5). We were all traveling from Bellingham, WA to Atlanta, GA with a VERY brief layover in Dallas. We were booked on a major airline that should remain anonymous as they are a bunch of asshats (but they rhyme with "Mamerican Mairlines") and we had to leave for the airport at 3:30 AM in order to catch our 7AM flight. It was Suck City.
By the time our car arrived in Seattle my husband and I were barely speaking to each other and the girls had marks on their faces and arms from the backseat smack-down they had while out of our reach. When I went to the counter to speak with the representative she informed me that even though our seats had been purchased many months ago and seat assignments had been given all of that had changed and we were no longer sitting together as a family.
I took a moment to absorb this information and was on the verge of freaking out about how our two little girls absolutely couldn't sit alone, etc. That's when her last sentence sunk in, "Your husband is seated next to your kids, but, unfortunately, you'll have to sit in another row..."
REALLY?! I don't have to sit next to two little girls who are hell bent on scratching each others eyes out?? I don't have to sit next to my husband who was a total prick all morning??! Well smack me and call me Alice I think I just won the fucking lottery!!
I'm afraid I might have been smirking by the time I got back to the hubs and the girls. I gently broke the news to Mr. Bex by saying, "BWAH hahahahah HAAAAAAAA!! I don't have to sit with you guys!!! Teee, heee, heeee.... Yep! I'm ALL by myself in another aisle! Sucks to be you, huh? Doesn't it suck?? I'll bet it REALLY sucks...!"
So he sluffed and I skipped all the way to the plane. I kissed my pretty girls and watched my husband schlep them and all of our shit through the cabin door - the one I was not yet allowed to enter due to my not having any kids with me. Woo hoo!
They finally called my row number and I happily boarded the flight and sashayed (as much as I am capable of sashaying when prego) my way down the plane. My eyes were traveling faster than my pregnant body could go in anticipation of seeing what darling creature I'd have the pleasure of sharing the next 3 hours with. Maybe somebody famous? Maybe a cute young man I could make blush uncomfortably with my risque comments?? The possibilities were unlimited.
That's when I saw it. A row of three seats with only the one in the middle available. On either side were two MORBIDLY obese teenagers. They had literally taken up all three seats with their enormous asses. I'm sure that the horror splashed across my face and then sent jolts through my body. So I just walked on past like it wasn't my seat and went to my family (in the back row) and said my husband, "Hey, you know what? I just realized that I was being a total bitch this morning. Hormones, you know?? Why don't you take my seat, and I'll take yours. You can relax, get a break from the kids, that kind of thing..."
He laughed at me. That fucker laughed at me! He said, "No way, Bex. You were so happy to be on your own. You just go enjoy yourself while squeezed between the two fattest people I've ever seen. Mwah! Say bye-bye to Mommy, girls!!!"
A flight attendant came up to me and instructed me to sit down and I whispered the problem. She whispered back that the flight was full and I was fucked. "Take your seat, please."
So I walked up to my row and told the kid on the aisle that I was sitting between them. He stood up by turning side ways and unwinding himself from the seat, not unlike removing a cork from a wine opener. Oh holy hell this was going to suck.
They both had the armrests up to allow the free flowing fat situation into the middle chair so when I sat down I brought both armrests down with me in an effort to stake my claim to my seat and airspace. He looked at me as if I'd taken a crap in the chair but wisely said nothing.
He wound himself back into the chair where his flabby ass oozed under the armrest and wrapped itself around my hip. Yikes! Not to be outdone, his arm and back fat slowly wrapped around my arm in a serpentine fashion, covering more than 50 percent of my arms circumference. I was literally wearing his fat like a fucking parka. His sister was also obese but not to the point where her fat involuntarily tried to mount my skin. But to say I was sandwiched in fat would be a gross understatement.
I don't do yoga. I don't meditate. But I sure as hell tried that day to close my eyes and to go to my "happy place". No luck. No, I learned that morning that there is no happy place if you are involuntarily wearing someone else's fat. If he had been a man I would have said, "Excuse me, kind sir. But you seem to have enveloped a part of my person. Please get the fuck off of me." But these two were in their middle teens and I just didn't feel right by pointing out what they must already really know - that they were officially ready to join the circus.
I soon realized that the two people in front of us were none other than their parents. As soon as the plane took off the Dad (sitting right in front of me) leaned his seat back, practically lying it on top of my pregnant stomach. All of a sudden I felt like I was going to puke, freak out and pull a Dunkin' Donuts all at once. I totally panicked. So I jumped up on top of my seat and leaped over Jabba the Hut to safety. Then, like any reasonable person, I burst into tears and locked myself in the crappy, tiny bathroom.
My husband started knocking on the door asking if I was ok but I didn't answer it because I was too busy trying to figure out how I could cut him up and feed him to the family I was supposed to sit with. Then a flight attendant banged on the door and I thought, "Fuck it all. I'm going to sit here on this disgusting toilet for the next 3 hours. I don't care how much of that blue shit splashes on me, either."
She kept banging, though, so I opened up so I could tell her to go piss up a rope but she said, "Oh, Honey. I'm so sorry. I know, I know. It's completely unacceptable. The flight is completely full, but you can have my jump seat."
I gratefully followed her to freedom which was enclosed in the little kitchen area - directly next to and facing the Fat Kids mother. Who had the balls to give me a dirty look! My entire left side smelled completely of her disgusting son and somehow I'm the designated asshole. Right. So I tried to ignore her hateful stare while I balanced on a 6 inch plank of metal that drops out of the wall designed to support the bony ass of a flight attendant for five minutes while the plane takes off and lands. But I'm the asshole. Whatever.
Here is the thing: I frankly don't care if you're fat. Be obese. Be a shut in who has to be removed from the house via helicopter while Richard Simmons cheers from the curb. I don't give a shit. But I should not have to wear you on an airplane if I don't want to. If you don't fit in a plane seat, you need to buy two. Period.
Instead of the Mile High Club I should start a Mile Fat Club. If you've ever sat next to somebody a mile wide, let me know and I'll send you a membership card.
You think you know, but you have no idea. We've earned our stripes, one twinkie at a time.
I'm going to feed a fat kid to Humor-Blogs.com to see what happens. My guess? - a big belch.
xoxo
Comments
Oh. My. God. This has got to be the quote of the day; nay, the year! Great post but I think I have to go barf now. Urp.
Have you guys ever written something that you thought was reasonably funny and then you hit 'PUBLISH!' and waited with baited breath ... here it comes ... they'll be here ANY minute ... and then nothing happens? No stampede of visitors. No comments. No humor-blog votes. Nothing.
Well, that was this post for me. So I'm really super glad you both came by and liked it!
Thanks for the shout-out. My tat is the same place, sort of a weird morph of a whale and a scuba flag. I collect whales, I like to dive, and now I look like a whale when I dive so it works.
LOVED the plane story. I'd have done the same or asked them to sit next to each other and give me the aisle seat. And then I would have told the F***ER to put his seat back up because there was a Baby On Board! I will admit that the time I went to Vegas and was pregnant, I had to get a seatbelt extender for my belly. It was the most shameful day of my life, but at least I was pregnant and not oozy.
OMG you are too funny!
I think i just peed my pants!
peace
#2
As for the plane, I'm not very skinny myself. More on the curvy side of things. But I've always managed somehow to keep myself confined within my own seat assignment (except for that one time in college, which was like a WHOLE other kind of deal).
My tummy gets scary big when pregnant, too, so I feel for you. That must have sucked. At least you had a good reason.
Sista #2 - YEESSSSS! I made someone pee in her pants!!! My entire career objective was just MADE!
Thanks for reading it. My husband was just busting my balls for the "Airline Manifesto" being WAAAYYY too long. So you guys who made it all the way to the end get double points today, K?? Mwah!!!
http://attentioncadets.blogspot.com/2008/06/obama-proposes-fat-history-month.html
Great blog btw!
oh, and BTW, GROSS!!! EWWWW! the stewardess should have made them sit next to each other and let you have the aisle. if you're so big that you're SPILLING over into someone else's seat, you need to pay for it.
a few years ago my sister and i went to go see KC and the sunshine band at the rodeo. well, there are no seats, per se, just a bench with numbers. when we got there a big fat bitch was sitting on one of our numbers. well, we asked her to move, but she COULDN'T!!!!! her ass was so big it covered her number and one of ours!!! i had no place to sit!
luckily, there was an empty seat in front of us so my sister moved down a row. but i had to stand there for the next hour or so with this gross sweaty thing TOUCHING ME!!!! i had to move partially out into the AISLE to get away!!!!
i'm scarred.
You've actually written a post that makes me need to shower.
So- Ha,*sniff*,yech!
(where's my loofa?)
In my other life I was an x-ray tech. Imagine trying to x-ray Jabba? If the patient could actually fit between the table and the x-ray machine, sometimes you'd have to press that 'expose' button two times in hopes to produce enough radiation to penetrate the fat, which would cause the lights to dim and the local nuclear power plant to go into turbo mode. Those were such fun times!
Gotta go, the donuts are calling me.
Deb Who of Used to Have a Blog
Stephanie - That's the irony - it's against the rules at Mamerican Mairlines, too. I should have pitched a fit before the plane took off. But, I felt bad because they were kids.
Leigh - I find that my writing increases exponentially as the laundry piles up. I think it's part of my "charm".
blewknight - Thanks! I've often wondered if I rock or not, so the affirmation is appreciated!
Damon - I know what you mean. I can still smell him and it's been 3 years. I should sue for damage to my olfactory system.
Meg - Woo hoo! I got another one! Wow! This is like the BEST day EVER!!!
As for the baby, I'm not sure if he's scarred for life or not. But he does like to butt things with his head (how proud we must be, eh?). I probably need a lawyer.
Deb - Make a new blog! Make a new blog! Come on, all the cool kids are doing it.... Come on it, the water is FINE!
See you in the funny pages????
p.s. i love your blog. it makes my day everytime i see you have a new post :)
Jill - Oh, man. Like cirque du soleil isn't weird enough without a tubby dude stinking up the joint.
Thanks for the comment! That made MY day!
They were two different seats.
Not in the same row.
She was clear as to why she was buying two seats when she bought them. It took an hour to straighten it out.
poor bex. and it's not like there's any shortage of "these people" in the ATL. i'm sure they were flying home so they could return to suburban fast food bliss.
Americans are getting wider and airplane seats are shrinking so I have a feeling the issues will continue to come up.
But to me it's all about responsibility. If you don't fit in the seat, fine. Just get two like your friend did.
And then maybe the airlines will work on training their cracker jack staff. (And then maybe I'll blow a monkey out of my ass.)
Tricia - Well that was nice of Shieldmaiden!! Thanks for coming!! As for your flight, you got lucky, huh?
Whenever I'm seated on a flight I always watch the people entering the plane to see who will be next to me. Everybody on the plane gets the same expression on their faces whenever a fat guy walks down the aisle. That and anyone carrying a screaming baby. First you stare in horror. Then you realize that you're staring in horror and you think, "Don't make eye contact...DON'T make eye contact!!!" Because if he sees you staring at him then you need to come up with a bullshit story about how your dead Uncle Larry used to have that same EXACT tie or something.
Sandy - I LOVE the way you snort! It's the best EVER!! (and thanks!)
Muskrat - Heyyy.....don't be knockin' the ATL and our yummy food! That's the reason I go to the gym 6 days a week, so I can enjoy it! But, now that you mention it, I think that there might have been vomit. It's just that I probably swallowed it. (Eeewwww...)
Thanks again for all of the comments and Humor-blogs votes! I had no idea you guys like fat people on airplane stories so much!
Sorry I didn't say something sooner. I could have quieted your mind about the whole "rock or not" thing. From now on I will not hold back.
"Great minds discuss ideas; average minds discuss events; small minds discuss people." -Eleanor Roosevelt