Before take-off, my mother whispered to me that I should just move to another seat. We glanced around and found that it was a full flight. It also immediately hit me that there was no way in hell I could find someone nice enough to trade seats with me.
I spent the 5 hour plane ride in some sort of distorted fetal position. The guy sweated on me, almost stuck his ass in my face, and a strange musty odor seemed to surround him.
At one point during the flight... It crossed my mind that if the plane were to crash, how could I possibly escape the flaming wreckage. With the guy blocking the aisle, I pictured myself using my right arm, the only part of my body I could still feel, to pull my body up and over the seats.
I became religious upon the planes arrival to the SF airport. I thanked god that the flight was only 5 hours.. I skipped out of the airport and spun around with my arms out.
More to come...
