So I would like to take a brief moment if I could to just talk about my flight from California to Chicago. I think in the past I had always used the potential onset of claustrophobia to make people overly aware of my need to not be surrounded by crazies. I never truly believed that I had any such fear…until three hours ago.
As usual I got on the airplane when they say that they are boarding my section. I sat in my window seat, took out my contacts and put on my sexy librarian glasses, tucked my backpack securely into the space in front of the middle seat in my section. Since the plane appeared about 20% full, I anticipated no trouble.
Until they showed up. Two members of the White Trash Society (WTS) who had accidentally married one another some years back came in and sat beside me. I instantly was inconvenienced. The sheer amount of space required by these two individuals was astounding, and so I was forced to place my backpack in the minimal legroom provided me.
So needless to say, I finally grasped the cliché expression of being like squished like sardines. But my overweight and under-cultured companions in row 14 were pretty docile, except for when the drinks and peanuts were offered, at which point the both sat up like they hadn’t eaten or drunk in a fortnight. (Sidebar, the man behind me is totally drunk and he smells so bad I almost threw up.) Seriously, you should have seen this woman suck down her 6 ounces of free Pepsi. Oh, sure, I could go on and on about my new friends, but it’s late and my body just completed its nightly self-oiling, so I’ll just refrain for the time being.
Anyways, as I sit at the shadiest gate in all of O’Hare awaiting basically a kite with the technology of a toilet to deliver me safely to Louisville, I just thought I would pop in and write a quick blurb. Sorry if this is both boring and riddled with grammatical aberrations, but currently this is all I’ve got. I, as well as yourselves, look forward to a coherent entry within 48 hours. Good night.
