We boarded the plane; someone was sitting in my seat. The guy requested that we switch seats so he could sit next to his son. So I took his seat on the other side, which of course was right behind the little girl who hit me in the head with her inflatable bat. It seems her plan is coming to fruition. When I set down I looked up and saw her little fingers wrap over the top of the seat, her head slowly creeped up and as soon as we made eye contact she started that evil chuckle. Great, the three year old toddler with crazy hair knows I’m here – within striking distance.
All was quiet in 35a until about halfway into the four hour flight. Catastrophe stuck. I had a glass full of Ginger Ale sitting on the place mat in front of me. Then without warming the icy cold beverage from Canada decided to commit suicide just as I was pulling out a magazine. For my convenience the ginger ale chose my lap as a good place to end its life. Now here is where things start to get interesting. I am wearing tan pants, not jeans but cotton pants that are tan. Hey look my lap now look likes the bladder has gone full release. Great, now what - the girl next to me had that look of awkward disgust. The first words out my mouth was “Did you see that? A typhoon just flew in my pants!” Almost on cue, the toddler sitting in front of me poked her head over the seat and started laughing in the the language of Hysterics.
Two hours to go, sitting in a wet seat with wet pants. I then realized that in this situation with no change of clothes nearby there really isn’t anything I can do. Using the air nozzle to dry my pants was a valiant but feeble effort. All I could do is wait and think about dry things.
Until Next Time