I don't know when they will finally invent those Star Trek type teleporter devices that can
beam you up from one place to the next,
but the chances are that when they do, there will be a screaming baby positioned by my
left ear while I'm waiting to be beamed up.
There's always a shrieking brat near me whenever I fly, it's mandatory.
It's like an unwritten law; the baby must sound like a cat that's been left out in the back
yard during a blizzard with it's limbs being torn off one by one. At least that was the case
at Logan the other night.
The parents of this snarling mutation saw no need to stop the child from screaming like
a monkey with a soldering gun up it's ass. Let's face it though...
Any baby that can scream louder than a friggin' JET should be looked at.
So, as I waited for my flight to arrive I had to move my seat to escape. I sat and waited
with a splitting headache and looked around. There was a huge ultra wide black woman
sitting there like a stack of truck tires. She had these big whopping thighs that were so
wide, I remember thinking,"There could be terrorists in there!"
The plane arrived and we boarded it.
This is where I have to ask a question; Whatever happened to cute petite pretty
stewardesses? The ones that used to look like Barbie?
I walked onto the plane and got snarled at by a burly Irish wash-woman with a bad
diaper rash on her face. She growled about the size of my carry on luggage. It had to be
a certain size, measured by the size-wise containers. This, from a woman who would
barely squeeze into an average NFL uniform.
I explained that the four large bags I was carrying were separate parts of my iron lung,
which I needed for medical reasons. that confused her, and she shut up. It worked, and I
was proud of myself for standing up to someone who was bigger than me.
We found our seats. My son took the window seat. I sat in seat B, the middle one, and
we waited to see who would be our traveling companion on this 3 & 1/2 hour flight.
Guess who?
You guessed it!
Down the aisle waddled the Michelin woman. She looked at her ticket, grunted, and set
down next to, and partially on top of ME.
That's when I noticed her thighs were not only wide, they were actually TALL!
Whoever heard of TALL thighs? There had to be terrorists in there! I watched out the
corner of my eye for any sudden movements from her thigh area. She was wearing
striped pants, and the stripes were bulging like they might explode any minute.
For the next 3 & 1/2 hours, she thighed me to death all the way to Orlando.
When they told me to fasten my seat belt, I couldn't even FIND the damned thing! The
silver clip thing was buried under a mound of terrorist S.U.V. thigh meat. I had to really
work to dig it out. She glared at me like I was trying to get fresh with her or something.
Like that's something I really wanted to do; Feel up King Kong!
I tried to shimmy toward the window seat to get away from Kong being next to me, but
the seat belt held me in place.
We flew along for about 45 minutes feeling like a giant truck tire was pressing against
my leg. My own leg was starting to fall asleep from being pinned down. It was horrible.
The baby started screaming again, and my headache came back.
Then, about an hour into it Gargantua falls asleep. Her head lolls to one side, facing
me. It was scary, like a Halloween mask. Then the snoring began, six inches from my
face, blowing kielbasa breath out of her with each exhale... Poof! Snort! Pooof! Snort!
It sounded at first like a Canadian goose honking, followed by the sound your straw
makes at the bottom of a frappe. Then the pooooof would come and you could smell that
pig's feet and cabbage fragrance again. During each inhale her mouth would open wide,
displaying a row of yellow xylophone hippo teeth. I considered throwing in a
Wint-O-Green lifesaver during an inhale, but what if she woke up and bit me?
So I put my headphones on, and turned my MP-3 player way up to block out the
honking, and I had to face the window and put my hand over my face to block the smell. I
decided to take the Wint-O-Green lifesaver myself because I had begun to taste her
exhales. Now I knew why they called them "Lifesavers."
Meanwhile my ass had totally fallen asleep, from the truck tire blocking the circulation.
The worst part was about two hours into it, when I had to take a leak. I tried to wake the
sleeping mammoth, in fear of stirring the terrorists in her striped pants. Then there was
this little football scrimmage as I tried to break through the line with my son, to get to the
bathroom.
As soon as I broke free and headed for the bathroom I saw that it was occupied, and
the pilot's voice came on,saying we were heading for some turbulence, to remain seated.
The seat belt signs went on, and the burly Irish wash-woman stewardess started
lumbering towards me with hate in her eyes.
Luckily I was able to duck into the bathroom just before she completed her charge.
By the time we staggered by the screaming baby to our seats, the Michelin woman was
out cold again, and I had to wake her up for a fresh game of buck-buck.
I farted as I slid by her, just to get even, so I could feel like I fought back a little.
I spent the rest of the flight pinned down with no feeling in my ass.
It was like I was listening to a tuba solo with Sasquatch in a dumpster.
Sounded like a duck being threatened with a chain saw.
I was never so glad to get off an airplane in my life.