Evil at 36,000 feet!
If someone were to send you on a mission to locate the most deplorable human being on the planet, how long do you suppose it would take? Months? Years? A lifetime? Well, it took me about two seconds yesterday as I sat in seat 3F on my JetBlue flight from Tampa to New York, to realize that the woman who was about to sit next to me in the center seat was the spawn of Satan. Within our 2 hours and 30 minute flight, which bounced and jerked directly through the eye of a storm, the woman in seat 3E committed 4 of the Seven Deadly Sins. Miraculously, I lived to tell the tale, which goes like this…
It started out like any normal flight. I boarded the aircraft, and took my window seat, permitted to pass by the tall white haired gentleman that sat on the aisle. I’m terrified of flying but I play it off well. I have many tricks for hiding my trembling hands and erratic heart rate, and often I am forced to resort to alcohol consumption in order to stop my head from exploding (with the atmospheric pressure 36,000 feet above the earth, I am not entirely convinced that this cannot happen). This was an 8am flight, however, so I resolved myself in advance to less drastic means for surviving the flight. Luckily, JetBlue provides personal satellite TVs for each passenger in the seat back, which, in the past, has proven successful in keeping my mind off impending doom, as long as the ride remains relatively smooth throughout.
About a minute after I had fastened my seatbelt and plugged my headphones into the arm rest, enabling me to watch Project Runway from the actual runway, an overweight (this becomes relevant later) passenger carrying a large duffle bag approaches my aisle and asks the tall, long legged man in the end seat if she can switch. Although I was paying more attention to the TV and less to this passenger, I assume the man politely drew the woman’s attention to the fact that his legs were much longer than hers, and that he’d really prefer to remain in his aisle seat, leading her to reluctantly take her assigned seat in the middle. As a last stitch effort, she asked the flight attendant if she could have an aisle seat, and was gently denied, as the flight was to be completely full. My fate for this flight was now sealed.
The first, and possibly most disgusting attribute of the lady in 3E, lead to the first of the deadly sins which she committed: GLUTTONY. 3E consumed more empty calories on our short flight from Tampa to New York, than any individual human should consume in a week. I am no light eater, but if I were to have consumed a fraction of what 3E did, in that brief amount of time, I would be violently ill, or at the very least intolerably nauseous. It should be noted that she did not visit the rest room once. I will reveal every item which 3E consumed throughout the course of this narrative (in bold for emphasis) but the order and timing is relevant.
3E boarded the flight with a Venti (that’s a large) Starbucks Frapuccino with whipped cream. Before takeoff she popped 1 piece of mixed berries flavored Trident gum. Approximately 5 minutes into our flight, she used her excessively long, hooker-red fake fingernails to play with, and eventually remove said gum from her mouth so that she could fold the wad into a cardboard magazine insert which she then placed into her seat back pocket. This was, no doubt, in preparation for her consumption of a cheese danish, also purchased from Starbucks, which immediately followed.
Within seconds of finishing the danish, 3E proceeded to take out 2 pieces of Big Red gum, which she held in her right palm for approximately 7 minutes before chewing, delayed by an involuntary, possibly sugar-induced nap. As 3E committed her second deadly sin: SLOTH, relief was felt by me and, undoubtedly the man in the aisle seat, because as long as she was unconscious she was not changing the channels on her satellite TV which involved her right elbow making contact with my rib cage repeatedly, nor could was she inadvertently changing the channels of the man to the left of her as she commandeered both arm rests.
Upon awaking from her brief slumber, 3E attempted to put the 2 pieces of Big Red gum into her mouth, but discovered that her body heat had melted the gum to the paper. For the next 2 minutes, she audibly licked and sucked the wax paper from the two sticks of gum, until she could successfully place them both, paper-free, into her mouth. Either unsatisfied with her cinnamon selection, or somehow hungry for something larger and more fattening, 3E removed the gum from her mouth within 10 minutes, this time reserving it for later consumption by placing it on the end of the phony nail on her left index finger.
Immediately thereafter, she pulled out the final Starbucks item, which was a banana nut muffin. At this point, our aircraft began to enter a storm pattern, which caused slightly greater than mild turbulence, and of course set my heart racing. The effect on 3E was not one of fear, but of clumsiness, apparent in that she dropped large chunks of her muffin into her lap several times before it dawned on her to open her tray table. She did so, only after flinging muffin debris off of her lap, and in my general direction. Thank you.
At this point it was time for our in-flight beverage service, and for 3E’s third deadly sin: GREED. When the flight attendant approached our aisle, I ordered a water, as did the gentleman on the end. 3E, however, proceeded to order a Diet Coke (oh, NOW’s she’s concerned about her caloric intake?) and a Vodka with cranberry- “Absolute”, she specified. After informing her that JetBlue only stocked Sky Vodka (that’s cute), the flight attendant proceeded to ask 3E for whom were each of her beverages intended- presumably with the dual purpose of 1.) making sure that she was not ordering an alcoholic beverage for me, who often is mistaken for a minor, and 2.) subtly questioning her greedy endeavors to milk the “complimentary beverage service” to the fullest extent. Her requests were fulfilled. Wrongly assuming that 3E must be full after her array of snacks and beverages, I was further mortified to overhear her request a bag of Terra Blue potato chips. Nauseated, I declined a snack.
As soon as the flight attendants finished the beverage service, the turbulence increased extensively, and all passengers were instructed to take their seats and remain seated for the duration of the flight. We were told that air traffic control was predicting that the remaining hour and a half of our flight was going to be severely choppy due to the poor weather conditions. After making the announcement, the pilots took turns taking a bathroom break, a procedure which requires the lead flight attendant to block the aisle way with the beverage cart, for security purposes. Seated in the 3rd row, it was blatantly obvious to any rational person that the flight attendant could not, under any circumstances, be interrupted while fulfilling her very important responsibility of protecting the cockpit, and the air plane as a whole. 3E, thought only of herself, however, and used that precise moment to obnoxiously flag down the flight attendant, holding up a wad of trash that she had accumulated. “Can I have a trash bag?”, she shouted. The flight attendant, politely put her hand up, gesturing to her beverage cart barricade, and informed 3E that she could not get to her at this time. 3E, oblivious to the fact that the flight crew had any responsibilities other than to serve her personally, started to get angry.
As if fueled by the bubbling frustration of the demon seated in 3E, our plane started to plummet and jolt in erratic bursts, causing the pilots (who had successfully relieved their bladders) to instruct the crew, via over head speakers, to be seated for their protection. At this point, the flight gained its status as one of the top 3 most terrifying flights I have ever been on. I was no longer calmed and distracted by the TV programming. I hurriedly searched my bag for my Ipod so that I could listen to the one voice that can bring me comfort in the scariest of situations: Eddie Vedder. I selected my playlist, with trembling fingers, and cranked the volume all the way up, with my eyes clenched shut, and my chest throbbing. At one point, I even felt a lump well up inside my throat and moisture flirt with my tear ducts! I was not going to let fear win. I started to take deep breaths, and with my eyes closed, I began to focus on his voice, picturing the happiest moments of my life that I could think of, with as much detail as I could muster.
3E was completely un-phased by the turmoil that our plane was currently in. In fact, she had the presence of mind to commit the fourth of her deadly sins: WRATH. After clumsily spilling her vodka and cranberry onto her lap, her alcohol laden blood started to boil! She had become utterly irate at the flight attendant for refusing to abandon her FAA mandated duties to collect her abundance of trash that, at the height of our turbulence, she furiously unbuckled her seat belt and attempted to stand up! Her first attempt was thwarted by an air pocket which threw her violently back into her seat. Her second attempt was halted by (thank God) the white haired man in the aisle seat who refused to get up to let her pass. Then, when I realized that she was about to attempt to climb her fat ass over him to make a break for the now strapped in flight attendant, I forcefully, yet politely said “I don’t think anyone is supposed to get up right now because it is very turbulent”, to which she snorted, “I asked for a garbage bag 3 times and she ignored me, now look what’s happened! (referring to the spilled cocktail) How am I supposed to go to a business meeting like this?”
At this I was dumbfounded. What sort of business meeting was she planning on attending wearing a yellow sweat suit and vodka breath? Desperate to come up with something, anything, that would get her to abandon her plan at getting out of her seat at this moment, I offered to take all of her garbage, and place same in my seat back pocket. Reluctantly, she agreed, yet continued to spit and mumble angrily under her breath. While I went back to my Pearl Jam aided meditation, I couldn’t help but notice 3E digging furiously through her oversized duffle bag, banging into my legs and arms, searching for a pen and paper on which she would write a scathing note to the flight attendant.
My light headedness reached a maximum, and the remainder of the flight was a blur to me. I did, however take note of 2 more pieces of Big Red gum and a large package of Twizzlers candy that were consumed by 3E- enough sugar to send a normal human into shock. When we finally landed safely, 3E began huffing and puffing that we were not being let off the plane quickly enough for her taste, and as soon as we could unbuckle our safety belts (she, of course, had long since unbuckled hers) the other passengers on the plane, aware of what a freak show this woman was, gladly stepped aside and allowed her to make her hurried and dramatic exit, which included yelling at the flight attendant on her way out.
I thought I had finally rid myself of her evilness, but I was in for one more chance encounter at the baggage claim, wherein she would nearly plow me over with her over sized duffle bag, complaining that her luggage had not yet come out (none of our luggage had come out yet). Although part of my in-flight meditation included prayers to God, and promises that I would not bad mouth this woman, if only God would be merciful enough to allow us to land safely, I have obviously failed in that mission and will be making it up to God some other way. I could not, in good conscience, let this story go untold. It is not that often, after all, that one meets the most deplorable human being on the planet!
It started out like any normal flight. I boarded the aircraft, and took my window seat, permitted to pass by the tall white haired gentleman that sat on the aisle. I’m terrified of flying but I play it off well. I have many tricks for hiding my trembling hands and erratic heart rate, and often I am forced to resort to alcohol consumption in order to stop my head from exploding (with the atmospheric pressure 36,000 feet above the earth, I am not entirely convinced that this cannot happen). This was an 8am flight, however, so I resolved myself in advance to less drastic means for surviving the flight. Luckily, JetBlue provides personal satellite TVs for each passenger in the seat back, which, in the past, has proven successful in keeping my mind off impending doom, as long as the ride remains relatively smooth throughout.
About a minute after I had fastened my seatbelt and plugged my headphones into the arm rest, enabling me to watch Project Runway from the actual runway, an overweight (this becomes relevant later) passenger carrying a large duffle bag approaches my aisle and asks the tall, long legged man in the end seat if she can switch. Although I was paying more attention to the TV and less to this passenger, I assume the man politely drew the woman’s attention to the fact that his legs were much longer than hers, and that he’d really prefer to remain in his aisle seat, leading her to reluctantly take her assigned seat in the middle. As a last stitch effort, she asked the flight attendant if she could have an aisle seat, and was gently denied, as the flight was to be completely full. My fate for this flight was now sealed.
The first, and possibly most disgusting attribute of the lady in 3E, lead to the first of the deadly sins which she committed: GLUTTONY. 3E consumed more empty calories on our short flight from Tampa to New York, than any individual human should consume in a week. I am no light eater, but if I were to have consumed a fraction of what 3E did, in that brief amount of time, I would be violently ill, or at the very least intolerably nauseous. It should be noted that she did not visit the rest room once. I will reveal every item which 3E consumed throughout the course of this narrative (in bold for emphasis) but the order and timing is relevant.
3E boarded the flight with a Venti (that’s a large) Starbucks Frapuccino with whipped cream. Before takeoff she popped 1 piece of mixed berries flavored Trident gum. Approximately 5 minutes into our flight, she used her excessively long, hooker-red fake fingernails to play with, and eventually remove said gum from her mouth so that she could fold the wad into a cardboard magazine insert which she then placed into her seat back pocket. This was, no doubt, in preparation for her consumption of a cheese danish, also purchased from Starbucks, which immediately followed.
Within seconds of finishing the danish, 3E proceeded to take out 2 pieces of Big Red gum, which she held in her right palm for approximately 7 minutes before chewing, delayed by an involuntary, possibly sugar-induced nap. As 3E committed her second deadly sin: SLOTH, relief was felt by me and, undoubtedly the man in the aisle seat, because as long as she was unconscious she was not changing the channels on her satellite TV which involved her right elbow making contact with my rib cage repeatedly, nor could was she inadvertently changing the channels of the man to the left of her as she commandeered both arm rests.
Upon awaking from her brief slumber, 3E attempted to put the 2 pieces of Big Red gum into her mouth, but discovered that her body heat had melted the gum to the paper. For the next 2 minutes, she audibly licked and sucked the wax paper from the two sticks of gum, until she could successfully place them both, paper-free, into her mouth. Either unsatisfied with her cinnamon selection, or somehow hungry for something larger and more fattening, 3E removed the gum from her mouth within 10 minutes, this time reserving it for later consumption by placing it on the end of the phony nail on her left index finger.
Immediately thereafter, she pulled out the final Starbucks item, which was a banana nut muffin. At this point, our aircraft began to enter a storm pattern, which caused slightly greater than mild turbulence, and of course set my heart racing. The effect on 3E was not one of fear, but of clumsiness, apparent in that she dropped large chunks of her muffin into her lap several times before it dawned on her to open her tray table. She did so, only after flinging muffin debris off of her lap, and in my general direction. Thank you.
At this point it was time for our in-flight beverage service, and for 3E’s third deadly sin: GREED. When the flight attendant approached our aisle, I ordered a water, as did the gentleman on the end. 3E, however, proceeded to order a Diet Coke (oh, NOW’s she’s concerned about her caloric intake?) and a Vodka with cranberry- “Absolute”, she specified. After informing her that JetBlue only stocked Sky Vodka (that’s cute), the flight attendant proceeded to ask 3E for whom were each of her beverages intended- presumably with the dual purpose of 1.) making sure that she was not ordering an alcoholic beverage for me, who often is mistaken for a minor, and 2.) subtly questioning her greedy endeavors to milk the “complimentary beverage service” to the fullest extent. Her requests were fulfilled. Wrongly assuming that 3E must be full after her array of snacks and beverages, I was further mortified to overhear her request a bag of Terra Blue potato chips. Nauseated, I declined a snack.
As soon as the flight attendants finished the beverage service, the turbulence increased extensively, and all passengers were instructed to take their seats and remain seated for the duration of the flight. We were told that air traffic control was predicting that the remaining hour and a half of our flight was going to be severely choppy due to the poor weather conditions. After making the announcement, the pilots took turns taking a bathroom break, a procedure which requires the lead flight attendant to block the aisle way with the beverage cart, for security purposes. Seated in the 3rd row, it was blatantly obvious to any rational person that the flight attendant could not, under any circumstances, be interrupted while fulfilling her very important responsibility of protecting the cockpit, and the air plane as a whole. 3E, thought only of herself, however, and used that precise moment to obnoxiously flag down the flight attendant, holding up a wad of trash that she had accumulated. “Can I have a trash bag?”, she shouted. The flight attendant, politely put her hand up, gesturing to her beverage cart barricade, and informed 3E that she could not get to her at this time. 3E, oblivious to the fact that the flight crew had any responsibilities other than to serve her personally, started to get angry.
As if fueled by the bubbling frustration of the demon seated in 3E, our plane started to plummet and jolt in erratic bursts, causing the pilots (who had successfully relieved their bladders) to instruct the crew, via over head speakers, to be seated for their protection. At this point, the flight gained its status as one of the top 3 most terrifying flights I have ever been on. I was no longer calmed and distracted by the TV programming. I hurriedly searched my bag for my Ipod so that I could listen to the one voice that can bring me comfort in the scariest of situations: Eddie Vedder. I selected my playlist, with trembling fingers, and cranked the volume all the way up, with my eyes clenched shut, and my chest throbbing. At one point, I even felt a lump well up inside my throat and moisture flirt with my tear ducts! I was not going to let fear win. I started to take deep breaths, and with my eyes closed, I began to focus on his voice, picturing the happiest moments of my life that I could think of, with as much detail as I could muster.
3E was completely un-phased by the turmoil that our plane was currently in. In fact, she had the presence of mind to commit the fourth of her deadly sins: WRATH. After clumsily spilling her vodka and cranberry onto her lap, her alcohol laden blood started to boil! She had become utterly irate at the flight attendant for refusing to abandon her FAA mandated duties to collect her abundance of trash that, at the height of our turbulence, she furiously unbuckled her seat belt and attempted to stand up! Her first attempt was thwarted by an air pocket which threw her violently back into her seat. Her second attempt was halted by (thank God) the white haired man in the aisle seat who refused to get up to let her pass. Then, when I realized that she was about to attempt to climb her fat ass over him to make a break for the now strapped in flight attendant, I forcefully, yet politely said “I don’t think anyone is supposed to get up right now because it is very turbulent”, to which she snorted, “I asked for a garbage bag 3 times and she ignored me, now look what’s happened! (referring to the spilled cocktail) How am I supposed to go to a business meeting like this?”
At this I was dumbfounded. What sort of business meeting was she planning on attending wearing a yellow sweat suit and vodka breath? Desperate to come up with something, anything, that would get her to abandon her plan at getting out of her seat at this moment, I offered to take all of her garbage, and place same in my seat back pocket. Reluctantly, she agreed, yet continued to spit and mumble angrily under her breath. While I went back to my Pearl Jam aided meditation, I couldn’t help but notice 3E digging furiously through her oversized duffle bag, banging into my legs and arms, searching for a pen and paper on which she would write a scathing note to the flight attendant.
My light headedness reached a maximum, and the remainder of the flight was a blur to me. I did, however take note of 2 more pieces of Big Red gum and a large package of Twizzlers candy that were consumed by 3E- enough sugar to send a normal human into shock. When we finally landed safely, 3E began huffing and puffing that we were not being let off the plane quickly enough for her taste, and as soon as we could unbuckle our safety belts (she, of course, had long since unbuckled hers) the other passengers on the plane, aware of what a freak show this woman was, gladly stepped aside and allowed her to make her hurried and dramatic exit, which included yelling at the flight attendant on her way out.
I thought I had finally rid myself of her evilness, but I was in for one more chance encounter at the baggage claim, wherein she would nearly plow me over with her over sized duffle bag, complaining that her luggage had not yet come out (none of our luggage had come out yet). Although part of my in-flight meditation included prayers to God, and promises that I would not bad mouth this woman, if only God would be merciful enough to allow us to land safely, I have obviously failed in that mission and will be making it up to God some other way. I could not, in good conscience, let this story go untold. It is not that often, after all, that one meets the most deplorable human being on the planet!
Labels: JetBlue, Seven Deadly Sins
posted by Talia
@
12:46 PM
4 Comments:
At 4:34 PM ,
Unknown said...
Then again, with a yellow sweatsuit and vodka breath, her meeting likely consisted of providing some sort of mascot orientation to the McDonalds in Times Square.
At 9:57 AM ,
Anonymous said...
Jo-Mamma
At 3:48 PM ,
Anonymous said...
~FLA
At 1:11 AM ,
Anonymous said...
Lori