8 Airplane Assholes Who Are Worse Seatmates Than My Toddler
Look on the bright side. This could be much worse.
Listen, I get it. No one boards a plane praying “Please let me be wedged into a seat next to a frazzled mom and her frazzled baby!” Hell, I’m a parent, and I’d love to be able to lean my head against the window and sleep the deep sleep of a baby-free-adult the whole plane ride instead of frantically trying to keep my toddler happy in a cramped, bumpy, super-sonic germ cannon as it’s rocketing across the sky.
But — NEWS FLASH — most parents don’t get the luxury of flying solo when they need to travel, so chances are good that you’re going to be on a plane with a baby, or two, or ten, at some point. Which means — gasp! — you’ll probably wind up sitting next to someone with a baby at some point.
And I just think we’d all be a little less anxious about the whole process if everyone could remember that no matter how slobbery or hungry or wiggly our little booger-pickers can get, you could always be sitting next to someone worse. Someone like…
1. Perfumed Pete/Polly
Why anyone thinks it’s okay to douse one’s self in perfume/cologne pre-plane, I’ll never know. Your nose may be numb to the effects of Chanel #5 after years of over-use, but everyone around you is now stuck paying the price for your gross abuse and now we hate you for it. (And all you Axe-wearing fliers out there? Just stop.)
I know that some people think anyone with a scent-sensitivity is just “overly” sensitive, but having your nose and eyes assaulted by extreme synthetic scents for the entire duration of a flight is enough to give anyone a headache. I’ve even been on planes with people who sprayed MORE cologne on themselves while in the freaking air! This should be illegal!
Bottom Line: My toddler doesn’t wear perfume or cologne, and his eau de ”I just ate a metric-ton of fruit-snacks” won’t last long.
2. Halitosis Henry/Holly
A few years back, my husband and I took a beautiful (and expensive) trip to Iceland. (seriously, we’re still paying that sucker off). One of the best parts of the trip was a bus tour from Rejkavik to Jökulsárlón (the glacial river lagoon) in Southern Iceland. The trip was an all-day affair, since it’s quite a haul from city centre, with several sight-seeing stops along the way.
Hubs and I thought we had scored a major victory when we landed seats in the back of the small tour bus, since it was raised — allowing us views out of the front window of the bus along with our side window. But one of the gentlemen sharing that back row with us had THE WORST halitosis I’ve ever encountered. I spent at least half of the drive with my nose pressed into the curtains on our window, breathing in their dusty, deodorized goodness, just to hide from Halitosis Henry’s evil mouth.
As if it wasn’t bad enough that Henry’s germy gums were waging WWIII on us while he was awake, that smelly son of a bitch kept falling asleep with his head thrust backwards, jaw gaping, spreading his stank-gas to the rest of the bus. As the day wore on, I began to wonder how this dude could be so unaware of the evil cloud coming from his maw, and why in the world his wife didn’t have a gas mask on 24/7.
Bottom Line: My toddler may be fussy, or try to put stickers on your forehead, but at least his sweet, sweet baby breath isn’t going to make you gag.
3. Vera/Vernon with Verbal Diarrhea
Everyone finds themselves strapped in next to one of these people at some point. If you, like me, loathe small-chat/talking to strangers, then chances are good you’ve given yourself a migraine with all the silent swear words you’re lobbing at the tongue-wagger talking your ear off. Hell, even those of you who don’t mind talking to strangers, are liable to get angry with a Vera or a Vernon next to you, because this motherfucker never shuts up! And what’s worse, Vera/Vernon’s are always completely oblivious to every single social cue you employ in an effort to politely demonstrate that no, actually, you’re not interested in hearing about the awesome freeze-dried perennials they found in their cousin’s basement.
Bottom Line: My toddler can only say a few words you’ll even understand, and –even though he’ll let you watch The Muppets with him on his iPad — he won’t get butt-hurt when you finally put your earplugs in and close your eyes instead of talking to him.
4. Donald/Delilah with Actual Diarrhea
Farts are funny, unless they smell like the rotting corpse of a rat who died from eating a rotten egg. Being on a plane with someone passing that level of stink is terrible, but sitting right next to them? Fuuuuuuuuuuck!
And if your seatmate has gas that smells of death, it’s a pretty sure bet that their asshole is about to eject that death-gas in a fiery shitstorm of putrescence.
Which means you’re not only going to have to pretend not to be sick every time they fart, but you’re also going to have to spend your plane-ride getting up and down every time they need to use the tiny on-board toilet.
Bottom Line: My baby may poop in a diaper, but I promise to clean it up, double bag that stink-bomb, and throw it in the garbage bin up front like a decent fucking human.
5. The Cabbage Eater
I hate that airlines have gotten so cheap that they no longer provide you with free meals. Southwest, the only guys in the sky NOT trying to bend you over and steal your wallet for checking a bag, is the worst when it comes to food. All you’re gonna get on a Southwest flight is a bag of peanuts or some lame SunChips, so you had better grab an over-priced hoagie at the gate gift shop before you board, or you’re going to be sucking peanut dust off your fingers in desperation.
In a bid to save money, some people decide to forego the $12 ham and cheese sandwich, and instead bring along a lunch from home. (A dear friend of mine was so used to doing this, she didn’t know what to do with herself when she flew business-class for the first time and they brought her a warm meal.) As a fellow not-rich-person, I completely understand and applaud the frugal flyer who packs a sack-lunch.
I do NOT, however, support or applaud the asshole who packs smelly food (like, oh, say… cabbage?) and then eats it right next to me.
What kind of asshole brings cabbage on a plane?
I can’t tell you, because when this happened to me, that sick, twisted, cabbage-eating motherfucker was far enough behind me that I never got a look at him/her. What I DID get was a giant wave of nausea from the smell of their warm cabbage horror show hitting my nostrils.
Bottom Line: My toddler is going to eat the shit out of some Goldfish crackers and fruit snacks — but neither of these things will make you gag like a Tupperware of warm, fetid, cabbage will.
6. Pepé le Pew
Ugh, body odor… Amiright?
A lifetime ago, when I waited tables in Santa Monica, we had a regular customer who would come in for breakfast every Sunday post-jog, and make us all want to throw up. I don’t know if he had a medical condition, or if he just hated deodorant, but at a certain point, his need for an egg-white omelet should have absolutely been trumped by my need to breathe.
This asshole would come in, sweaty AF, and smelling like his balls were rotting off, and we’d all just have to pretend we didn’t want to die while we waited on him. He didn’t keep his death-cloud at his table either — he let it wander. People on the other side of the restaurant would wrinkle their nose, chew faster, and try not to be too loud as they discussed with their meal-mates who the stinky shit-sack ruining their breakfast might be.
After he left, we’d have to wipe down his booth with bleach.
Bottom Line: Sitting next to this guy on a plane is worse than sitting next to a toddler, and you fucking know it.
7. The Elbow King
If one more douchebag plane-spreads their elbows into my rib-cage on a flight, I’m going to “accidentally” spill my hot mocha latte on their lap.
I mean, WTF, people?
What is it about those tiny seats that make you think that your discomfort trumps mine? I’ve got just as much room as you to not-be-comfortable in, and I’m not only NOT-elbowing YOU, but I’m managing to keep my body parts to myself while also holding a thrashing toddler.
Bottom line: My toddler might not understand the difference between “Our space” and “Your space”, but he sure as shit isn’t going to sock you in your rib-cage! At least, not repeatedly.
8. The Puker
Not everyone can handle their plane ride, and I get car sick if I’m in the back, so I am sympathetic to The Pukers out there. I really am.
But that doesn’t mean I want to sit next to you.
No. No, I want to sit somewhere where the sound (and smell) of your retching won’t trigger a sympathy-retch, leading to a retch-pocalypse where everyone on the plane throws up and we all make the news for the most in-flight throw-up ever.
Gross.
Bottom line: Sitting next to a toddler may result in some teeth-grinding as you learn just how high-pitched a toddler’s squeal can climb, but at least my two-year old isn’t up-chucking overpriced airport panini all over your shoes like some people.
