The Devil is back and my pen is poised for a plethora of New Year diatribes, restaurant reviews, travel, fashion, sports…
And we are off.
Angry Birds are alive and well and flocked to my flight on the last day of 2014.
New Year’s Eve and we departed from Ft. Lauderdale airport on Virgin America.
I foolishly thought that this day would be a quiet time to fly…boy, was I mistaken.
The flight was jam packed with more kids than a Saturday matinee of Frozen and the plane was oozing with major adult douche bags.
My family always books early and upgrades to front of the plane priority aisle seats. We happily boarded and settled in.
Courtny was across the aisle from me. A homely Angry Bird and his concubine with a “it fell off the truck Hermes bag” and cheap fedora approach us in a very gruff, aggressive manner.
“Scruffy beard says, “This is my wife and we want to sit together. Can you change seats?”…please is a dying art form.
I reply, we are together. He says, “You can be together with you in the middle and your daughter on the aisle.”
Seriously, pork belly butt, who wants a middle seat when you have upgraded to an aisle seat?
He gave us a snarky glance and spewed venom, hissing, “Geez, you’re disgusting.”
We are disgusting?!
Fast forward to three hours into the flight. His wife who is sitting to my right, picked her nose for a good two hours and had a mound of droppings piled on her pilled sweater…that is the true definition of disgusting.
Reality check, you idiot.
Tidings of happiness…a privileged Long Island Prince plops down in front of me. He puts his bag in the overhead compartment. I committed the cardinal sin of asking him to close the bin since it was full. He jumped down my throat and said, “I was going to, bitch.” Happy New Year to you, Prince.
I actually kept count and during a 330 minute flight, Prince of Turds rose from his Virgin throne 22 times which works out to an uprising every 15 minutes. Six of the times he landed so hard he changed the channel on the TV.
These Angry Birds need to consume massive amounts of Xanax and relax.
Cue screaming baby and aggressive channel changer who continually poked the back of my seat and we endured the flight from hell…appropriate for the Devil.
Well into the flight, a lovely, but harried flight attendant did a drive by and and offered us a cocktail and meal. Surprised yet appreciative, we declined. She said, “Please let me treat you. You are the only true human beings on this insane flight.”
We landed after a very bumpy descent due to 30 mile per hour winds. Between the Angry Birds and “Breaking News” updates on the AirAsia plane crash which is always reassuring when you are 35,000 feet in the air, I was ready to take off for home.
Update…My mom has rallied…we had a positive report from the infectious disease doctor (thankfully, no Ebola!) and I hired a fabulous day care worker who will be attending to my mom all day, every day. Joy…that’s her name and what I am experiencing.
Let’s hope it is a Happy and Healthy New Year for all.
Discover more from If The Devil Had Menopause
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.