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Performance Art
Dear "Lady" in the Middle Seat of my Recent Southwest Flight,
Brava! Brava! I really did not expect to see such a fine piece of performance art today.
From the moment that you asked the nice guy in the aisle seat if you could sit next to him until you intimately shared his personal space as we waited to deplane, you rarely missed a beat.
The start of your performance really set the stage. I haven't seen a woman slide across a strange man's lap like that outside of a pick-up bar. He had been so willing to stand in the aisle like a gentleman too
Too bad you couldn't see the appalled look on his face when you rubbed your scrawny little buttocks up and down his leg after you dropped the back of your phone on the floor under my seat.
Another nice touch was the way you left your mobile phone on during take-off. The real piece de resistance was when you threw the phone into your purse when it rang.
However, I must say that you did start to lose it when I asked you to turn off the phone. Your snarled remark of "I NEED a ride from the airport. I do this all the time. It doesn't do anything" was at odds with your over dressed, over tanned, over bleached hair, bad girl attitude. Or maybe it wasn't. Who am I to say?
You missed a delightful conversation between our aisle mate, his friend across the way and me while you were in the lavatory. We were trying to out what you were doing in there for 20 minutes of a 50 minute flight. They thought you were trying to send a text or make a phone call. I think you were puking-up your dinner of Southwest pretzels and 3 oz. of Coke. Given your sketching during the other 30 minutes of the flight, I figured you were both bulimic and had forgotten that there are no longer actual drugs in Coca Cola.
Did you notice that our aisle mate leaped to his feet to allow you back into your seat? He had been threatening to pretend to be a sleep but decided that the invasion of his personal space wouldn't be worth it. Kind of a joke really, since you glued yourself to his backside during the deplaning process.
I must admit I felt a bit guilty when my driver was there to greet me and take my laptop case when we reached the baggage claim. You had kept up your disdain for me, the mere mortal sitting by the window seat, until then. I hope your jaw didn't get bruised when it hit the floor.
Did your ride ever arrive to pick you up? Last I saw you, you were sitting on a bench outside the terminal.
Sincerely, The 'Bitch' by the Window
x-posted to teddystutz
Brava! Brava! I really did not expect to see such a fine piece of performance art today.
From the moment that you asked the nice guy in the aisle seat if you could sit next to him until you intimately shared his personal space as we waited to deplane, you rarely missed a beat.
The start of your performance really set the stage. I haven't seen a woman slide across a strange man's lap like that outside of a pick-up bar. He had been so willing to stand in the aisle like a gentleman too
Too bad you couldn't see the appalled look on his face when you rubbed your scrawny little buttocks up and down his leg after you dropped the back of your phone on the floor under my seat.
Another nice touch was the way you left your mobile phone on during take-off. The real piece de resistance was when you threw the phone into your purse when it rang.
However, I must say that you did start to lose it when I asked you to turn off the phone. Your snarled remark of "I NEED a ride from the airport. I do this all the time. It doesn't do anything" was at odds with your over dressed, over tanned, over bleached hair, bad girl attitude. Or maybe it wasn't. Who am I to say?
You missed a delightful conversation between our aisle mate, his friend across the way and me while you were in the lavatory. We were trying to out what you were doing in there for 20 minutes of a 50 minute flight. They thought you were trying to send a text or make a phone call. I think you were puking-up your dinner of Southwest pretzels and 3 oz. of Coke. Given your sketching during the other 30 minutes of the flight, I figured you were both bulimic and had forgotten that there are no longer actual drugs in Coca Cola.
Did you notice that our aisle mate leaped to his feet to allow you back into your seat? He had been threatening to pretend to be a sleep but decided that the invasion of his personal space wouldn't be worth it. Kind of a joke really, since you glued yourself to his backside during the deplaning process.
I must admit I felt a bit guilty when my driver was there to greet me and take my laptop case when we reached the baggage claim. You had kept up your disdain for me, the mere mortal sitting by the window seat, until then. I hope your jaw didn't get bruised when it hit the floor.
Did your ride ever arrive to pick you up? Last I saw you, you were sitting on a bench outside the terminal.
Sincerely, The 'Bitch' by the Window
x-posted to teddystutz