Not me peoples! Jesus, it’s only 10:14 a.m. I’m not an alcoholic.
As we made it through the plane we were exiled to the back or what I like to call, the waiting room for the toilet. As people filed in behind us I cringed, wondering who would be my seatmate.
I have a very strict policy on seatmates and it’s this: Just because you brought absolutely nothing to entertain yourself, does not qualify me as your in-flight entertainment.
“You’ve got a talker,” my husband whispered over.
“Shut up,” I yelled/whispered back.
My seatmates were an older couple probably in their 80’s. We will name them Ethel and Mac.
“Well I’m going to have to get up to use the restroom.” Ethel announced to Mac before she even sat down.
‘Fantasic,’ I thought. Cabin door isn’t even shut and she’s already making plans to get up 9 times.
A few minutes passed and out of the corner of my eye I saw a powder in the sunlight come up front Ethel’s window seat. She was laying out no less than 15 pills on her tray, all ranging in size from a seasame seed to a hard-boiled egg. I looked at her, looked at Mac then back at her in disbelief. I’ve heard of in flight shopping but her in flight pharmacy was fully stocked.
We changed planes in Atlanta and I had to use the restroom. Like clock work, men got right in while the women’s line stretched to an Auntie Ann’s Pretzel shop.
And let’s discuss the women’s restroom for a moment. Why does it always seem like when it’s your turn to use a stall, the person exiting the stall is the nastiest, grossest person you’ve ever seen. You know she unloaded enough compost to start a farm and you have to be in the wake of all that. I thought about grabbing one of my sons and hitting the family restroom but then I remembered Mother Nature’s an ass hole and I had some monthly business to attend to.
Seat 17C- Drunkie Drunk
But the best part of the flights? 17C, the drunk woman. It started with the following conversation between my 13-year-old P and me via text.
She was wearing marron color scrubs and I prayed she did this for comfort and didn’t just come from a medical facility. This nurse look was completed with 7 bracelets and too many rings. Her brassy color hair hadn’t been brushed for 24 hours as there was just this gigantic wavy gap in the middle of her crown. Bedazzled readers sat on top of her head.
My interest waned when she got on Facebook. It however returned when I read what she was currently posting for friends and family. I didn’t get the whole post but it was somewhere along the lines of:
77 YEARS OLD AND A 10″ PENIS ENLARGER.
Even if she caught me staring, I wasn’t going to back down now.
“I need another drink,” she said to no one inparticular as she pulled the drink menu out of the seat back pocket. “Should get another glass of wine,” she said as she hit the stranger next to her playfully in the stomach with the menu.
It was 10 a.m.
After ordering a mimosa , she pulled out something that looked like a flask wearing a blue sweater and placed it in her mouth. I misread the situation though, as it was her blow-up pillow. After blowing it up, she put it around her neck until just 5 minutes later she held it flush against the seat in front of her and shoved her face in the hole. Aside from picking up communciable diseases from the latched tray table, I didn’t understand what she was doing.
She held this face in a donkey’s ass pose till her first drink came. After pouring the champagne and orange juice into her black sippy cup, she knocked over the mini champagne bottle to the floor. For the next 2 minutes, she attempted to retrieve the empty bottle by taking her foot out of her croc and using her toes to pick it up. Considering she struggled with keeping a bottle up right on her tray, this action proved to be futile. By now the people behind her realized how drunk she was and began to watch with interest.
So now I sit watching the waves here in Marco Island and just thought of another blog topic for this week. I really don’t like nature.