[RightOnTheLeftCoast]

Last year, for a thread involving people suing an airline for having to sit next to a dead passenger, I composed the following retrospective of my own most memorable seatmates, such as:

o Chatty Lady, who was a poster-child for The Paralytic Halitosis Society, or

o The 400 Pound Man, whose butt draped over both armrests and probably didn't even touch the seat cushion, or

o Statistics Guy, who regaled all around with gruesome in-depth details of dozens of major air crashes while we were awaiting take-off, or

o Thirsty Guy, who had consumed most of a flask of whisky prior to boarding the plane, then plopped down next to me, rested his head on my shoulder, and passed out, stirring only to belch every once in a while, or

o The Lady of The Hands, a social-worker in L.A. who tried to drape a blanket over herself and me (I was 16!) and do the nasty, or

o Bean Guy, whose aromatic flatulence commenced immediately after takeoff and recurred every 7 minutes like clockwork (I timed it) throughout a five-hour flight, or

o Barf Lady, who ralphed into a sickie bag shortly after takeoff from Hong Kong, and went through about a dozen more before we landed at SFO, or

o Depends Lady, a grouchy nursing-home candidate, approximately 80 years old, being shepherded by her middle-aged daughter; first the airline decided to board them at the head of the line rather than pre-boarding them, so we all had to inch along behind her and her walker for like hours; then she audibly loaded her diaper immediately after takeoff and spent the remainder of a blessedly-short hourlong flight sort of scooting around in her seat.

There are more (I'm a frequent flyer), but you get the drift. In each case these folks were immediately adjacent to me, but the plane was packed and there was nothing that could be done. Believe me, having a corpse as a seatmate sounds awfully good compared to these neighbors.

[Pern]

Brought a few memorable experiences back. Chuckles, too. :-)

[RangeRatt]

ROFLMAOAFOOC!

[struwwelpeter]

Some of your seat-mates sound like no fun at all.

I suppose I brought my aeronautical misadventure upon myself - a misunderstanding in Russia a few years ago made me wish to avoid clearing their customs if at all possible.

Standing in front of Sheremetevo's tamozhnya, I was casting about for some distraction when I noticed a huge woman in dirty jeans and sweatshirt sitting/blocking one of the customs booths. She was sprawled there alongside a pile of papers and a small, expensively dressed five year-old Russian girl. And crying.

Recognizing an opportunity, I rushed over to 'help'. It seems my fellow countryman had just adopted the little girl, and could not locate the currency declaration form which she completed upon arrival in Russia. She'd been through ten days of provincial Russian bureaucracies and the missing document was the last straw. I rapidly scooped her and her papers up, explained everything to tamozhnik, paid the insignificant vzyatki, and helped the lady through to the KLM/Northwest counter. Then I ditched her and went to slam a few warm bottles of duty-free Heinekin.

Things were going great. I settled into the half-empty 747 with a great feeling of relief, and was pleased to discover SIX SEATS unoccupied alongside me - heaven on an eleven-hour Moscow to Chicago run. After take-off, another beer, and I was getting ready for my first sleep in almost a week... when she found me. And came over. With the kid. For nine hours I'm translating the musings of Rosie O'Donnell's doppelganger for a wide-eyed flotsam from the Chelyabinsk state orphanage. "Tell her that I will always love her no matter what" "No no no, mommy doesn't love you when you pick your nose" and on and on and on... until the lady went to sleep and I ended up baby-sitting the kid, who had no idea where she was going. "I can't wait to go see Mickey Mouse and tell my friend Dasha." I didn't have the heart to tell her that the crazy lady she was with was for keeps.

A half-day and ten centuries later we got through US customs, and 'Rosie' met up with two other new mothers and their pets... "This is Arkasha, we're going to name him Dakota" "This is Ryan, I can't pronounce his Russian name" "How much did you end up paying?" "Oh we went through an agency..." Blah blah blah. I slinked away once more... but I could feel Kristina's eyes boring into my back for a hundred yards.

[Ol' Sox]

Ugh. Your post brought back memories of "Paint Peeling B.O. Rasta-man", who sat next to me on a flight back from Jamaica. I'm sure the airline had to reupholster the seat after he got through with it.

[Tijeras_Slim]

I'm reminded of the two unaccompanied children I was stuck next to on a cross country flight. After about an hour of squealing stupidity, I asked them if they has seen the plane's bathroom. They said yes. I told them the hole in the toilet let things fall all the way to the ground and if they didn't shut up I would stuff them down it. The rest of the flight was quiet.

[FreedomPoster]

ROTFLMBO! I'm so glad I nearly never have to fly. As I often observe, when told of stories like yours:

Ahhh! The glamour of modern air travel!