Way Too Many Freaking People

There's that pathetic, sad moment when you're sitting on the airplane with the seat open next to you, just praying that somehow, someway the person who is supposed to sit beside you was in a fiery crash on the way to the airport.

Okay...so maybe not that bad, but you want the empty seat. The place where you're resting your ass is so cramped. Please, just give me a little room!

But you know it won't work that way so you start watching the door and hoping that you get a 'good' person next to you...and by 'good', you're thinking small, or pretty.

I spotted my mark as soon as she set foot on the plane. She was about 23 years old, long dark hair. Jeans, boots, red blouse and small, and lastly, very pretty. Like model pretty.

And lo and behold, she stopped. At row 5. She put her bag away and sat down beside me. Her eyes were fixed straight ahead.

"Hi," I said.

And she didn't answer!

Like I wasn't even there!!

Not a single word passed between us in the 2 hour flight. She had most certainly heard my 'Hi' but she computed it all and decided, 'Nope, ain't gonna' answer.'

Which is fine with me. She was certainly no Kathy Fazzolari anyway.

And there's a lot of waiting at airports.

And when you wait, there's more freaking people, everywhere.

One twenty-something kid was seated quite aways-away. He was on the phone talking at the top of his voice to what I assumed was another young idiot. He was going on and on about going 'clubbing to get messed the F up.'

The entire conversation brought to mind that I'd like to club him to mess him the F up, but I endured. I'm not even sure if that conversation ended...I boarded my plane to sit next to Miss Tight-Ass before it was over.

Yet the real topper came after we finally landed in Buffalo after all the plane transfers and exchanges. I had been seated next to an Asian gentlemen who sat with his legs spread so wide that I thought he was disjointed. I had suffered through that. He had also spoke on the phone in his own language, laughing heartily every couple of seconds.

I hated him too.

Yet a funny thing happened when we landed in Buffalo.

I had been way too patient.

The folks started getting off the plane. One row after another. I was pressed against the window waiting for my new found enemy to move. He was texting little characters to his friend.

The wave passed our row. People in the rows beyond us were now de-planing. He was still texting and laughing.

The poor Asian fellow took the brunt of all those idiotic strangers I'd met before.

"Yo, buddy, you getting the f*%K up or not?"

I heard the people laugh in the rows behind us.

His English was pretty good because he started scrambling. He dropped his phone at my feet. I picked it up and handed it to him.

"Thank you!" he said.

"Let's go!" I said back.

There are way too many freaking people.

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