The three stooges. Most men love them, not too many women admit the same. I contend that it depends on when the latter is questioned about this particular proclivity. I believe that a woman is much more inclined to admitting their love for the Stooges before giving birth. Afterwords I believe the fear of intervention from social services prevent them from telling the truth. Watching them was fun , traveling like them would not be.
No matter what their mode of transportation was ,they always slept three to a bunk , chair or car. Flying was not much of an option during those days. If it was they could have shared my recent experience.
Let’s face it. The one size fits all airline seats were designed when Mickey Rooney was that one size. The standard airline seat requires that you fast a week before traveling. Is it an accident that cheaper tickets require a reservation at least one full week before departure? I think not. The fact that the airlines manage to fill up the planes defies natural law and the fact that there are not more air marshal incidents due to overcrowding is beyond me. I know I am not alone when I say that I hate the middle seat. When it comes to sitting in the middle seat, I am an on the edge of being claustrophobic . This particular flight I was lucky and was assigned my preferred seat next to the window. The aisle seat was assigned to a man about 2 1/2 Mickeys, I am about 2 Mickeys. The person who would be taking up the middle seat was running late and giving me hope that there would be a buffer , allowing comfort for all involved. If he did arrive he was going to have to be somewhere between .75 to 1 Mickey.
Middle Guy , my official name for him during the flight , showed up just moments before they closed the airplane door. Judging by the look on his face as he first gazed upon his seat assignment it seemed he was silently cursing the flight attendants sloth-like ability when it came to closing cabin doors, the failures of many people to get in his way during his terminal run or his own swift feet. Middle guy politely squeezed into his seat and his position gradually evolved into a more comfortable one, for him, leaning onto me. For those of you who have followed my adventures on this story board, you know my one true super power. SPOILER ALERT ( I have always wanted to do that). For those of you who have just discovered my stories , I will reveal it now, but please go back and see what you missed. My superpower is that I can sleep anywhere , particularly if I am on something moving. It was at this time that I chose to deploy my power. What I can’t see , hear , or feel can’t hurt me. Probably a philosophy used by many in prison. My power did not fail me and I slept through snack and beverage time. In kindergarten that would have made me cranky but I have evolved. I woke up 2 hours later with the strange feeling that something had gone wrong. I cleared the sleep from my eyes and noticed that middle guy was looking at me with trepidation, ok down right fear in his eyes. When I caught his gaze he cautiously stated “ I have been really worried the last hour or so. I am sorry but I accidentally got mayonnaise* on your pants”. I glanced down at the location of the mayo and approved of his decision not to try to clean it up while I was sleeping. I looked at middle guy and laughed and said” No worries, They are just jeans”. Travel pants are a good idea. Besides I pictured him trying to squeeze mayo out of a packet with his right hand while trying not to elbow Aisle Guy and commiserated with his predicament.
Getting to the hotel I promptly attempted to wash out the stains left on my pants. There were still noticeable spots. I was a little self-conscious about them on the return flight but nobody seemed to notice . Perhaps they were afraid to look at the laughing man staring at his pants and doing impressions of Curly. Nyuk , Nyuk, Woo Woo Woo.
*Thankfully it was the fake stuff, the egg in the real stuff would have gotten nasty.