Yeah, Im judging. And when Im finished, you can judge me for judging. Deal? So, Im on a flight back to my beloved T-Town from Dallas so its short yall. Like 45 mins short. The problem is the guy next to me is making it the longest dang flight Ive ever been on because hes testing every kind of tolerance I suck at AND hes GETTING IN MY SPACE with his stupid skinny elbow. Ive tried to be polite. Hes been arrogant in every gesture and response. Ive tried to glue my elbows to my side as he continues to keep hitting me with his over and over while hes messing with his iPad. Now, none of that sounds overly out of the ordinary when youre crammed in with 159 others in a metal tube flying through the sky. But, may I add that he is texting 2 different ladies who are very excited about that fact? (I cant help but eavesdrop people. Hes typing on an iPad 18 inches from my face. Seriously.) The first is Angie. He keeps calling her Sugar. Shes back in Texas and hes filled her head with sugar plums as she anticipates his return. He wants to share everything with her. Especially himself. (Im reaching for the airsick bag.) The other is Megan. She lives in Tulsa. He calls her Baby. Shes enthusiastically giving suggestions of cute restaurants and diners they can have breakfast tomorrow after the fun well have tonight. (Wanting to dump airsick bag contents on him.) Hes the kind of tech person that exaggerates their finger movements. You know the kind. They look like theyre doing a magic trick instead of calmly working on a great piece of technology. Hes dressed in TIGHT black skinny jeans. Black TIGHT sweater. (Cant see the shoes. Im sure they are black and stupid...I mean hip.) And hes got a tattoo on the inside of his wrist that says Bonafide in GIRLY fancy font. Need I continue? Im judging. Hes guilty. I want to throat punch him for punishment. We are landing... Ill keep counting to 10.
Posted on: Mon, 19 Jan 2015 01:24:47 +0000
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