Sometimes People Suck, Part Two
I’m sort of starting to see why the airline people are so crabby.
This time, I was headed to Florida. Now, just a disclaimer for you; I can’t stand Florida. I’m sorry if I offend any Floridians, but I’m officially throwing the whole state under the bus in this article, so I am apologizing in advance.
As I approached my seat, I was immediately hit with two disappointments. First, I was in the middle seat. Ugh. I hadn’t even noticed on the ticket where they were putting me. Second, my row mate was taking her sweet time moving all her junk off of my seat. I had to repeat myself to her twice that that was my seat.
She was pure Florida. Miss Thing had the leather tan skin, overly processed blonde hair and was wearing the uniform of all retired snow birds, the Florida track suit. Her daughter was seated behind her, and in an instant I was forced to listen to Miss Thing argue with her about not paying extra for a guest at the wedding.
I rolled my eyes and squished into my seat.
Miss Thing and her offspring continued this over-the-seat heated debate and I could tell this was going to be a long trip.
So, here’s where the manners and common sense kick in for me and seem to disappear for her.
I snarfed down my Egg McMuffin and made sure to give the flight attendant’s my garbage and brush the crumbs off of me, all while being cognizant of the passengers on each side of me. I shut down my devices, kept my carry on stuff nice and tucked away, and was ready to go.
She, however, had different plans.
Once we took off, she decided to take her shoes off. Which is no big deal unless they stink or are horrible to look at? She had socks on and her feet didn’t emit any odor, so it wasn’t an issue.
At this point, Miss Thing is really going to get settled. She’s got the awesome window seat and she is milking it. She slumps down in her seat and starts adjusting her head for sleeping. Once that was done, she needed to get her feet comfy.
To do this, she swings her socked feet up onto the arm rests of the passengers in front of us, and she drops her legs as if in a gynecology visit.
See exhibit A.
The fidgeting comes next, the constant moving in her seat to make it feel like her bed at home. She takes the jacket she’s using for a pillow and re-adjusts it, over and over.
She finally falls into a slumber and this is when I notice her coffee. She must have taken one or two sips out of it, and now, here it was, shoved into the pocket of the seat in front of her. No lid on it, coffee filled to the brim, and it’s spilling.
You would think she would feel the coffee spilling onto her socks. Nope. I gathered up my purse and put it on my lap. I’ve never watched a cup of coffee with so much intensity and fear. With every turbulent jolt of the plane, that bitter, milky java splashed around, tearing my concentration away from my reading.
See exhibit B.
I can sort of excuse all that behavior seeing how she paid for that seat and all, but the pièce de résistance was her total disrespect for the flight crew.
When she awoke from her nap, she took the coffee cup out of the pocket, swallowed a pill with it and then, shoved the full cup down deep into the pocket and covered it with the magazines. Unbelievable!!
She did all this, knowing full well that I was watching her and she had absolutely no shame.
I won’t even get into the rest of my week with the Floridians. I can tell you that there were swingers in our pool, cock roaches in one of my drinks, rude bartenders everywhere and just that overall feeling that you are not wanted or welcome in an establishment.
So, there. I have vented and complained about people for the past two weeks. I would like to move on now. I want to continue to believe that all people are innately good; that we as Americans have decency and manners.
I’m just not sure they’re in Florida.