Airport Experience

My flight last night from Chicago to Lincoln was exhausting.

I flash a toothy smile to my seat-mate who greets me with ... nothing. He looked away. As I am lowering myself into the seat - not after I had already sat - he was quickly at work getting that armrest down should my cooties jump the one inch abyss between us.

Armrest secured, he stakes his property by hanging his elbow into my seat space. It wasn't until he nudged my purse with his foot to take up some of my foot space that I was totally annoyed.

Did I mention we haven't even taxied from the gate yet?

I had to push myself into his elbow just to get my seat belt buckled. He didn't budge - just stared out the window. The flight attendant came around to check belts and he decided to be a funny guy and not show her his belt. She asked twice before he finally made a very funny (not at all, actually) joke about her need to open up and trust men.

What? She's doing her job.

I digress. He got out his book and slid his elbow over further. At this point I was cussing that I finished my book on the Cleveland - Chicago leg and had nothing to do but flip through the Sky Mall for the 18th time. All, of course, while leaning to my left to avoid getting jabbed in the ribs the entire time. What was he reading? A book on manhood and how women are nothing but security blankets that get in the man's way of developing.

What'd I do? I leaned. I flew uncomfortably. I got hit in the shoulder and head by the flight attendant's butt. And then again with her drink cart. And, in my head I finished the homework of the girl across the aisle - a simple haiku. (It was either that or breakdown the chemical components of plant decomposition.) Enjoy.

Inferior I
You have inflicted on me
Unrequested grief