Somewhere along our evolution path, something went terribly wrong. I’m sure you know what I mean… I am talking about “the others”. Those people who still have to look for their ticket when they try to check in. The ones with the oversized bags. Without the required visa. No, they cannot remember the name of their hotel. Yes they forgot to fill in their landing card. The Hawaian-shirted, sunburned passenger.
They scare the heck out of me. They have these nice cabin luggage that fits easily the complete wardrobe of a midsized African village, and they squeeze it elegantly, and with a vengeance above my suit jacket. In the next hour, that luggage will be opened about a dozen times, to accommodate his K-way, to get out his Sudoku book, etc…
Next thing is that the other will ask me to take his picture. Framing him, and his travelling tribe. And then, he will be recording the take off with a turbo sized high-def camera (note the Sony labels are still attached, noblesse oblige) while muttering half-loud (for the off-camera track, you understand) everything that he sees.
After that, the stewardess will ask him to move to his assigned seat, which is going to be next to me. Obviously, he will try to sit on my lap to get there, and will whack my Bloody Mary over my computer.
After that he will tell me his life. All of it. From childhood over the second divorce, up to the happy kids. And the other one loves garlic. And he will use my 50% of the armrest. And he will go to the restroom plenty, Hey, it’s for free. And he will share if it’s a number 1 or a number two. And he will explain me all the funny bits of the movie he is watching while I try to work.
And he sweats. God, do other ones sweat. And their deodorants are packed, and shipped on their way to Timbuktu. A week ago.
And mind you: @ landing the other ones will clap, applaud, and whistle. As if putting down a 747 is a circus act. And right after the landing other ones will leap over your lap and cram the gangway with their souvenirs, luggage and kids. And they still think they get out faster by pushing hard.
Other ones should walk… or bike. 🙁
And they want to window seat of course.