A few weeks ago, I took a quick trip to Hawaii to attend the wedding of a delightful couple of friends. The second leg of the journey was around six hours long, and the flight was packed. My original seat was in the middle of a row, but a family boarded after me and their seats weren't together. A boy about 7 years old ended up next to me, so I offered to swap seats with his mom so they could sit together, because I'm nice like that (and she had a window). My new row had an empty middle seat, one of the few unoccupied spots on the plane. At this point, everyone was seated and the lady in the aisle and I were like "score! empty middle seat!" However, a stewardess came over and told the lady that there was a couple aboard the aircraft who were on their way to get married but their seats weren't together and would she mind switching seats so they could sit next to each other? She said yes, because in that situation, how could you not? Yeah, sit apart, suckas. Happy wedding.
Anyways, so the couple sat down in my row and, once they were settled in, I said, "Oh, so I hear you're getting married- congratulations!"
Their response? "Oh, no, we just lied about that to get our seats moved."
LIARS! And they were so irritatingly nonchalant about it. I was miffed. Things went downhill from there. Moments after takeoff, the man (who was seated next to me) removed his shoes. And his socks. And he had really, really smelly feet. C'mon, I know people like to be comfortable on long flights, but leave the socks on, buddy. Then came the massage. The man decided to give the woman a massage, and I'm not talking about an innocent shoulder rub. She was sitting on his lab, and he was pressing on her lower back with his hands doing some thrusty motion. We're talking as close as you can get to joining the Mile High Club without removing your clothes. Except for your socks, obviously, because you certainly didn't hesitatate to remove those, you stankyfooted liar. Thrusty massage went on for about an hour. I was horrified and tried to ignore them...hood up, sunglasses on, earphones in, staring intently at my laptop. These people looked to be in their early forties, an age at which everyone should be familair with airplaine ettiqute. They were terrible, Lying, smelly footed, thrusty massagers, I'd take ten crying babies over you fools, any day.