Monday, April 16, 2012

Home again, home again.

Friday night I returned home from my trip to visit Laura in Washington for her birthday.  It was awesome, but I do have a couple of weird things to tell you.

This blog post ended up weird, so here's a weird picture of Felix wearing Beverly on his birthday.

On my flight there, I had the window seat.  Of course the gentlemen who were my row-mates were already there, so I had to have them scoot so I could get in.  The armrest that SHOULD have been separating me from seat 6B was up.  Think about that for a second.  It was up.

I was snuggling with a stranger who was eating smelly Asian Panda or some shit for breakfast at 8 am.  He was also listening to Snoop Dogg on his phone (with headphones, but I could hear it all), so I didn't dislike him, just his choice of "breakfast."  His body was taking up at least 1/3 of my already tiny seat.

I sat there for several minutes with out side meats intimately rubbing with every move he made.  I was planning on going to sleep asap, so I was starting to get nervous about that armrest.  What if I fell asleep and drooled on his shoulder?  What if I got cold and began ACTIVELY SNUGGLING A STRANGER in my sleep?! Yikes!!

Eventually I just looked at him and told him I was putting the armrest down, which he was cool enough about.  He did complain after that the seat was too small (he wasn't big or anything), but at least I didn't have to share 1/3 of my seat with him anymore.  Schwew.  Then he drank Jack Daniels straight up with his egg rolls, and damn, that shit smells nasty at 8am on an empty stomach.  Good story, right?

I meant to post about my trip, but I appear to have just written a whole blog post about 10 minutes of air plane stranger snuggling.  Oops.  I might as well tell you what annoyed me on the plane ride home:  A kid who was maybe 10 (old enough to not be an asshole on a plane, if you ask me) shook his cup of ice back and forth for 20 minutes until he apparently spilled it and got yelled at by his moms.  Then he proceeded to punch or kick the back of my seat for most of the flight.  Sometimes he'd stand up and lean over the back of my chair, which involved him pulling the shit out of my hair.  I tried my best to tune him out, but he was persistent in his effort to drive me crazy for two hours.

You win kid. Actually, we both win because I did not give in to my temptations to throw your motherforking cup of ice in your face and kick you in the front of your seat.  For the record, I only kick children in my darkest revenge fantasies.  Oh cripes, I'm getting myself into trouble here.  I would NEVER.  The ice thing, maybe that could happen.

Here's Laura and I hugging a big ass tree in the old growth forest to whet your appetites for more Washington adventures.