“Some people are so rude!” I said, passing a young couple who obviously boarded the plane earlier than their row had been announced causing a jam-up in the aisle.
As I made my way to my seat in the back of the plane, I continued ranting to my friend,“Why can’t people just wait their turn?”
She just shrugged her shoulders.
My friend and I were heading to San Francisco to do a trade show at the Moscone Center.
“And what idiot left this here?” I said kicking a small bag on the floor that was blocking my seat.
“Uh, that’s mine,” the flight attendant answered.
“Oh, sorry,” I said feeling a bit embarrassed.
Struggling now to find room in the overhead compartment for my coat, I continued, “There should be a dumbo section on the plane,” I mean, what kind of dummy doesn’t know to put the wheels in first?”
My friend looked up at me.
“I mean, how many times does a dummy have to do this to learn?” I continued, shoving someone’s carry-on luggage aside.
Just then a man stood up in the seat in front of mine.
“I tried to get it to go in wheels first,” he said, “but it wouldn’t go in. Guess I’m a dummy.”
I smiled sheepishly then plopped down in my seat wishing I were invisible.
My friend now glared at me.
“That guy heard me,” I said to my friend.
“Are you kidding? I think the whole plane heard you.”
As I buckled my seat belt thinking about the whole plane hearing me, another flight attendant came to the rear of the plane where I was sitting.
And where the other flight attendant was who I had just been rude to was standing.
“It’s so sad about that young couple up front,” she said. “They’re taking their two-month-old baby girl to get an operation. Poor little thing. She's already had two operations.”
Suddenly I realized that the couple she was referring to was the couple that I had bitched to a few minutes earlier.
Of course they were on the plane before anyone else . . .
Because people traveling with children always board first.
I settled back in my seat feeling awful about my big mouth.
My comments were neither warranted or appreciated. No one cared what I thought or had to say. And that’s when I realized . . .
My thoughts are . . .
Just like a . . .
Well, if I say the word . . .
It will probably be just as offensive to some people as my words on the plane were.
So, I’m going to Google this word and come up with a softer sounding one that’s not so offensive to the ears.
OK . . .
Here’s goes . . .
Just because someone brews a fluffer-doodle and it’d feel better to get it out . . .
NO ONE appreciates it when they’re within smelling range of a fluffer-doodle.
And the same goes with my sarcastic quips.
Just because I have one brewing in my head . . .
And it’d feel SO MUCH BETTER to rant it out loud . . .
No one appreciates it when they’re in hearing range.
Especially when it’s them I’m ranting about
So, I decided on my flight back to Toledo . . .
I’m going to take my foot out of my mouth . . .
And along with my heart . . .
Leave them both in San Francisco.