Sleeping On A Jet Plane

This was inspired by my comment on Todd's experiences on a recent flight.


A few years ago, coming back from visiting my dad in the hospital in Michigan on Xmas Eve, I had the seatmate from hell. It was a large plane that had two seats on each side (a 727?). I got the window. I thought I'd scored. I mean, who else flies on Xmas Eve? Imagine my dismay as the plane filled up and this guy sits down next to me who smells like a distillery. Not only is he drunk as a skunk but he yaps away while totally violating my personal space bubble- about his martial problems, about how he is a pediatric oncologist (sad job, I see why he might drink), about how he is related on his wife's side to John Paul DeJoria (of the Paul Mitchell hair care line) who has a home in RI.

Bad right? It gets worse. He falls asleep in his aisle seat. I am trapped. His drink somehow spills all over the floor and near my stuff under the seat. This is not a nap. He is heavily alseep and snoring lightly. And then in his drunken sleep somehow ends up cuddling up to my shoulder. Ick. I keep trying to squirm away, but that only ends up giving him more space to pretend that he was in his bed. I am now smooshed against the window. The flight attendants keep passing by and giving me sympathetic looks ("poor girl, that drunk passed out on her").
Thank goodness for that bumpy landing or I think he never would've woken up. I could not get up the jetway fast enough.