(Written in 2008, I am one of those people with a child now… )
I should have known that I was going to be in for a stressful flight. When I got on the shuttle bus from long term parking to the terminal “Christmas in Hollis” by Run DMC was playing on the radio. The last time someone was transported to or from an airport with that playing was John McClain in the first “Die Hard”. Basically I had to brace myself to fight terrorists and come up with some pithy dialog, something I was more than willing to do.
On the first leg of my flight to Atlanta, or the ATL as black people or Jim Rome listeners call it, I settled into my seat and opened up my selected reading, Juggs Magazine slipped into a copy of “Gone with the Wind”. After we took off and I began to doze off a little bit when I felt a tug on my shirt on the window side. It startled me a little bit, I feared for the worst; there could actually be snakes on the plane, a much worse movie plot to repeat than Die Hard. I turned to look and saw the little hands of a child between the ages of one and two; I peered through the crack between the seat and the window and saw the little guy’s face. He had a pacifier in his mouth and gave me a smile, all happy to be playing with my shirt, cute right?
Well I couldn’t have this touching moment ruin my flight, I quickly unbuckled my belt, turned around, and knelt on my chair. I grabbed the kid out of his mother’s arms and swung him over my head, right before chucking him down the aisle where he slammed into the beverage card. His mother made eye contact with me and I screamed, “Bitch, control your kid.”
Okay, that didn’t happen. The child was really well behaved on the flight, poked me a little bit but it was all good. He didn’t cry and was a shining example of how a kid should behave on a flight.
I felt pretty good about the first leg of my flight, no delays, no psychos, and an overall relaxing trip thus far. Of course the fact that my thoughts were all positive absolutely cursed the second part of my trip.
On the next leg of the flight I boarded the flight and noticed that I had a girl about the age of 7 sitting directly behind me. Her mother looked like Martin Lawrence in “Big Momma’s House” and the girl looked like a miniature version of that. When I was sitting down I actually thought to myself for a second, “What the fuck is Martin Lawrence doing on my flight dressed in drag and a fat suit?”
After we took off I got the first of what were approximately 1,200,007 kicks to the back of my seat. Apparently Big Momma Junior has an active leg and loved to use my chair as a soccer ball. The kicks to the seat weren’t the worst part of the whole thing for me, nor was the 150 times she put up and down her tray. This girl has the bladder of a newborn and needed to get up no fewer than seven times on the flight. When she got out of her chair she would grab onto the top of my chair and pull herself to her feet. My chair would arch back under the strain of a fat little kid hanging from it. This acted like a catapult like motion that awoke me at least three out of the seven times she did it, each time I thought my head was going to snap forward and hit the seat in front of me.
At one point I thought about turning around and saying something but I knew it would just create an uncomfortable situation and that in the long run wouldn’t be worth it. Plus when I thought about it she is going to have to go through her entire life looking Martin Lawrence in “Big Moma’s House” and I would go through life looking like a plumper version of Jeremy Piven, advantage me… So bite on that. I just swallowed my pride and looked over the shoulder of the guy next to me who was reading Vibe magazine, Kayne had such a good year.
What are some of your flying horror stories?