The plane was packed. Evidently Orlando was a popular destination, perhaps even more so because of the sad grayness of winter in Pittsburgh. There was none of the to-Pittsburgh aircraft spirit I was used to, the solemnness of businessmen in pressed suits, leather attaches and laptops. Instead, a buzz that could be called genial, perhaps even festive, livened the aircraft. I thought, well this is going to be fun, flying down south to nice weather and surrounded by warm people for the journey.
Luck was not with me. It was not eventful, but the downward spiral went like this. I found my aisle seat. The window seat was empty, but the middle one was occupied by a middle-aged white man with a square head, the kind I always see on my trips to Pittsburgh. But this guy wasn't dressed in crisp business clothes, he wore jeans and a green oxford shirt which did a poor job of hiding the beer belly. We exchanged quick greetings. Since he offered no sign of being chatty, I sat down, unwrapped the sandwich I'd bought just before boarding and began eating, oblivious to the latecomers dragging their purses and children past me down the aisle. Minutes into my smoked turkey club, I bent down to take a bite and saw that a pair of feet had stopped at my row. I looked up. The feet belonged to a tall, thin man, also looking like he was in his early forties. He was dressed in camel khakis and another oxford shirt. There was no beer belly to hide but his hair was definitely thin. Beer Belly and I obligingly vacated our seats so thin man could get in.
Our steward began his "welcome to blah blah airlines" speech; thin man had barely made it in time. It was perhaps the relief of this that prompted him to think aloud about how lucky he was, the traffic he'd hit, his sprint from the parking lot. And unfortunately, this beginning salvo turned over Beer Belly's chatterbox for the rest of the flight. I had hoped to do some work or take a nap, since the evening planes I'd flown were usually dark and quiet. Instead, I was subjected to an incredibly asinine conversation that did not pause in the 2 hours from Pittsburgh to Orlando. For strangers, these two talked more than any
women I had ever met. There was no escape, they were next to me, I was on an airplane, there was no music, no headsets, no other conversations to neutralize theirs into a harmless buzz. I know that sometimes in life, there are exchanges that seem interesting, when you wish and try to eavesdrop. This was the opposite of that, I couldn't stop listening even when I wanted to. And I could not believe the things these men said, the words they used, the tone of voice which betrayed a pathetic arrogance in being able to converse like that. So, you'll forgive my comments in [CAPS]; these were thoughts held back on the plane for the sake of good will and order, but on this blog I am restored to the enjoyment of having no filter between brain and mouth.
[Keep in mind, these men are strangers to each other, and they are sitting on an airplane next to a girl who is also a complete stranger to them.]
1. Beer Belly asks a series of questions, unperturbed by Thinning Hair's short answers. "So, you in business?" "What do you guys sell?" "So are you national?" "That's nice for you, buddy". [HMM, THIS GUY IS KIND OF ANNOYING.]
2. Beer Belly demonstrates his ability to carry a conversation. Thinning Hair points to a picture of a casino in the in-flight magazine. Beer Belly chuckles, latches on. "Yeah, I love gambling. That texas hold'em stuff, my wife and I play it aall the time, every weekend we play. Friend and I, drove out from Chicago to Wildwood once. Atlantic City's good too." [LAME. WHO TELLS A STRANGER THAT HE PLAYS TEXAS HOLD'EM WITH HIS WIFE EVERY WEEKEND? EVEN LAMER, WHO PLAYS TEXAS HOLD'EM WITH HIS WIFE EVERY WEEKEND?]
3. Thinning Hair points out, "I like Vegas." Beer Belly is effusive: "Oh yeah, Vegas. What's good about that place is it's clean. I mean, Atlantic City, I just don't like it that I go gamble and when I come out, there's a guy with no arms and no legs begging for my money. You know what I mean?" [EXCUSE ME?! MY GOD, IT'S NOT LIKE YOU'RE EVEN FLYING FIRST CLASS!]
4. Beer Belly changes topics and defies my stereotype of people who like to travel as interesting: "I like travelling, you like travelling? It's 'cause I love golf. My wife and me went to Arizona once, the Hyatt in Phoenix it's just beallteefull, the greens there are amazing." Thinning Hair expresses no enthusiasm but Beer Belly is unphased: "You ever been to Cleveland? Oh, that place is great. It used to be a shithole but now it's great. You can play 18 holes for 30 bucks, it's beallteefull." [THE CHICAGO ACCENT HAS NEVER BEEN SO ANNOYING TO ME BEFORE]
5. Thinning Hair turns the conversation to Orlando and his business trip. He has a meeting at 1pm and 4pm the next day, and wondered aloud what he should do in the down time. To which Beer Belly confidently suggested, as if no other possibility could be better, "Get some golfing in." [I SWALLOW MY TONGUE TO KEEP FROM LAUGHING]
6. Thinning Hair divulges that he will meet some friends for a beer this evening but has to turn in early because of a 7am breakfast meeting tomorrow. Beer Belly is sympathetic: "Geez. Well, me, this friend of mine works for an architecture firm, one of the big ones. Well, you'll find this funny. Martha Stewart and Katie Holmes are going into developing something together, and they're having a party tonight to meet some people. So my friend invited me. Yeah, so I'm gonna go hook up with Katie Holmes." [I SUDDENLY FEEL NAUSEOUS.]
7. Beer Belly: [acknowledging my presence for the first time] Excuse me, can I put this cup on your tray for a minute while I get something out from my bag, thanks. [turns to Thinning Hair] See here's a picture of my boy, he's got a heart of gold.
8. Fifteen minutes later, I request that BeerBelly remove the friggin cup from my tray. "Oh I'm sawry!" They continue talking about kids and wives, goft and poker. In an amazing gesture of friendliness, Thinning Hair buys Beer Belly a beer! [I AM DESPONDENT, NOW THE CONVERSATION HAS ENTERED ANOTHER REALM, IT COULD HAVE FIZZLED OUT BUT THE BEER WILL CREATE THIS SENSE OF BROTHERHOOD, NOW THEY WILL OWE EACH OTHER MORE INFORMATION, A NUMBER OF GOOD LAUGHS.]
9. As the beer is consumed, I finally manage to fall asleep. Only to be woken up when Beer Belly acknowledges me a second time, "Excuse me, sorry to wake you, I'd like to go use the restroom. Sorry." [WHY DID YOU DRINK THE BEER IF YOUR TINY BLADDER COULDN'T HANDLE IT, ASSHOLE?]
...And so it went, on and on. More than once, I expected to look over and see two teenage boys sitting next to me, wearing baggy jeans and baseball caps. But nope, there they were, Thinning Hair and Beer Belly, the most pathetic middle-aged man I have ever met. I drew two things from this experience. One: In a welcomed break from my apostasy, it was
great to encounter someone who I would never
ever want to be like; the thought alone made my hair stand on ends. Two: Mid-life crises are very scary, if you are a man having one, please do not come near me. I am not interested in your posturing, bragging as if you are a teenager again. It does not make me respect you or find you impressive in any way, except for the thought that you are a huge asshole who is extremely pathetic. But if that's the kind of reaction you're looking for, then, by all means, go ahead.
