Your in my seat man….


A product of a public school, I know how to count!  One, two, three, four, five….

Row five, seat E.  Your sitting in E, my seat.  The phone stucked to his ear on an animated phone call, so I sit my big ass in six E.  Sitting in denial, hoping that at 911am (plane departs 940am) no one will sit in row six.

With cell phone in hand, watching the minutes, hoping ,praying that I will have row six to myself.   My heart pounds as every traveler boards the small plane (not jet,plane)will pass row six.   At 9:31,  is this row six?  Okay, she can count too!

Ok shit head, the jig is up, get your skinny ass out of E.    With phone still connected to ear, the skinny bastard stands up to let me through to his seat D-WTF!

What’s worse, I say nothing..  Perhaps it was the phone, but nothing, so my heat setting went from hot to fume!    He, removed his phone from his ear for a nanosecond and said how ya doing?  Tired! I grumble…

In trying to tune out , I grab my I-pod,close my eyes–too sleep-too dream.   However, some one plunked a kazillion quarters in the plane and there we where on a giant vibrating  flying bed.

Within minutes my left knee starts to hurt.  Normally, I put my left leg in the aisle.  But no, I sit in quiet anger….     The worst thing about NOT speaking up, is the self-directed anger.

As I drink another gallon of water… the bastard eats a bag of chocolate and cookies and you know he doesn’t gain weight, more fuel on the fire…    If I ate a bag of chocolate and cookies, they would have to cut a hole in the plane to get me out,  BASTARD!

My left knee is killing me, I’m moving every few minutes,  its a 90 minute flight, I can do it, I can do it…

Ouch, no I don’t think I can….

Finally we land, the bastard has one more move….  He stands, goes to the overhead and drops his bag on my hand. I pulled my hand away and the bag  accidentally falls to the floor(oops?) and I didn’t apologize.   That bit of childishness made my day.  Die Swine, Bastard, Skinny Man!

Cityfella

Published by CityFella

Moved to the Big Tomata in the nineties from San Francisco. No Suburbs for me with its single colored houses and lawns and the excitement of pulling out my trash can once a week. I'm a CityFella , a part time New Yorker. I'm happiest in the Center City where people the streets and people are alive. I'm still waiting to buy a 34th floor condo somewhere downtown/Midtown with a nightclub. "Hurry I'm old" My politics are somewhere in the middle with a needle that constantly moves. I'm too liberal to be a Republican and too conservative to be a Democrat. Everything interests me . I've come to love Sacratomato, Its a nice town in cheap sensible shoes .

%d bloggers like this: