Beware the Crocs

I hate to fly. Not so much the flying as much as the close proximity to so many strangers. Yeah that's it. I hate mass transportation in small seats. Here's why.

I view flying as a means to get somewhere. I'm not interested in hanging out or learning something new or making a friend...I just want to get where I'm going. When the awkwardly shaped girl with the perm from 1986 tries to make an obvious joke in my direction about how waiting in line for the flight is like a "cattle call", I inwardly yawn and outwardly...well, yawn. I'm not into tired comments with nowhere to go but the next obvious boring comment (It sure is crowded in here! I hope the flight isn't delayed!). I just want to board so I can de-board and get on with it.

This morning I was flying back to Nashville from Chicago. I had been in Chicago with one of my bands and oh, I love Chicago. It's where Ryan and I fell in love. That city's got life. Hustle and bustle, if you will. If I were young and single and ridiculous I would totally move there and get a job driving the trolley for tourists wearing fanny packs. And I wouldn't even make fun of them.

I made it all the way through waiting and boarding without too much invasion of my personal space. I was in Boarding Group B so I knew seat pickins would be slim. I quickly sat in the first available aisle seat (windows were all taken by the A Group - jerks) next to a safe looking woman in a rayon shorts ensemble. She had a short brown bob and milky, wrinkly knees shaped like a wobbly post on the stairwell.
She wore black footie socks in her turquoise Crocs that matched her vericose veins.
Right away, or at least after it was too late for me to change seats, I sensed that she was the high maintenance type. She had an entertainment bag just for herself. You know the one...Moms always have one handy to entertain the kiddies. Hers had a book, pillow, neck pillow, Diet Coke, magazines, prescription pills (labeled AM/PM), yogurt, apple, hand lotion, make-up bag, jewelry pouch, tissues, extra black footie socks and gloves. I know all of this because she got everything out of her Entertainment Bag and then put it all back in. Then she took off her watch and her bracelets. Turquoise Crocs off then on. Neck pillow on then off. Then on again. Then off. Then she turned off the air above her head. Then on. Then she ordered a coffee, black, and water, cold. And a napkin. Don't forget the napkin. That's black coffee and cold water and a napkin - did you get that? The very second the seatbelt sign went off she got up to go to the bathroom. This meant she had to squeeze past my very long legs which made for some awkward touching on both our parts. What is it with people who wait until they get on the plane to take a potty break? I go to great lengths to prevent EVER having to use the airplane bathroom.

I'll spare you more details...because they only get more tedious. There was more packing and unpacking of the Entertainment Bag. Putting the watch back on. Take it off again. Asking for a second napkin, don't forget the napkin. Taking a second....I said second....bathroom break.

And people, the flight was only 45 minutes.