Why Certain American Fat Mums Are Single
Imagine the scene, a long haul flight to Las Vegas, on the one side of the aisle my mate, his wife and her friend, on the other side of the aisle, me in the aisle seat, a large mum in the middle and at the window seat the sort of American brat who gets picked on deservedly in American comedies. The sort of kid who gets picked to play Bethlehem in school nativities.
The plane takes off and straightaway the little probably literal bastard starts to kick off that he's hungry. Cue the sumo mum asking if I can get his rucksack out of the overhead locker. Bear in mind the plane hasn't levelled off and the seat belts signs are still lit up. He doesn't take waiting a few minutes very well and starts to compalin very loudly that he wants his 'candy' and now.
The plane levels off, the seat belt signs go off with a 'ping' and within split seconds she nudges me to get his tooth decayers out. There are 2 rucksacks, one seems to have a bowling ball in it and the other probably a compressed dead elephant by the weight of it.I pass the nearest one down and BINGO the little shit's a happy boy, so i put his bag back up and try to get comfy again for the flight to paradise. Not easy with one arsecheek floating surprisingly pert in the aisle. Ten minutes later he wants a drink so she gently nudges me to get a drink down for him. This time it's in the bad furthest in , wedged in tight. After a bit of wrestling and tugging I get it free, pass it down, she gets his drink out and I put it back in the compartment again. She passes him his drink, he opens it and she gets soaked. She blames me for shaking it up while the kid laughs like a date rapist leaving the scene. I give her some improvised crap about air pressure and she apologises and forgives me. Yeah big deal. By this time my three mates the other side are in hysterics and as they are about to eat some food of their own offer some to me. Big mistake. They said my name, and I still haven't forgiven them. She hears it and uses it to strike up petty conversation and uses it to the point where I'm seriously toying with changing it by deed poll.

'So Steve, where are you from Steve?'
'Been to Vegas before, Steve?'
'Steve, is there a Mrs Steve?'
And so on (ad infinitum)

Then after the little piglet has wolfed down both his and her meals it's entertainment time. No screens in the backs of seats, just a few small TVs peppered around the aisles on the ceiling showing some cheesy rom-com. I don't mind, at least it'll shut her up.

Until Augustaus Gloop next to her decides he doesn't want to watch this and wants his portable DVD player...

'Steve, can you get his DVD player out for him, please Steve?'

After much silent cursing and rummaging around I pass the rucksack down and he gets his precious gadget out. I put the bag up yet again and settle down for a snooze.......

'Steve, can you get up? I think you're sat on his headphones.'

I get up. I'm not.

'Can you get out in the aisle so we can check the floor?'
By now I'm getting really pissed off, and we are only about 90 minutes into the flight. She checks the floor, and wakes the people in front to ask them to get up and in the aisle aswell. The people behind were awake but they had to aswell, all because of this obnoxious little doughnut with limbs hasn't reached puberty and will watch anything with Kate Hudson in it.
Eventually he found them. He forgot he'd put them in the magazine flap below his tray. He's happy now, so I'm happy I can have a snooze.
10 minutes later she gently whispers in my ear (something i NEVER want to go through again), 'Steve, can you put his DVD player back up for him? The batteries have died' Personally I wish something larger and closer to me would have died instead.

Eventually I got to sleep, only to be woken by her informing me, 'Steve, we are now flying over the biggest lake in America'.

IT'S NIGHTTIME AND I CAN'T SEE ANYTHING ANYWAY!!!

The words 'fuck off and die' are seconds from my lips. I just murmured in my fake state of hibernation and thank fuck she left me alone for the rest of the flight.

I don't hate anyone because of their size. I hate awkward, rude, brash pachiderms with no mothering skills who don't say 'Thank you' just once for the inconvenience they put others through.



Length? Fair, Width? Let's just say she has moons orbitting her
(steve dubbleyoo, Tue 3 Jun 2008, 18:53, 2 replies)

In her shoes
(although I doubt they'd fit!) I'd have asked you to get the backpacks out and put them under the seat in front. That's what we usually do, instead of leaping up and down.

Have a *click* for the "moons" comment.
(TheWeeWitch hasn't been here much recently .., Tue 3 Jun 2008, 19:08, closed)

"The sort of kid who gets picked to play Bethlehem in school nativities."
Fuck me that's big! He doesn't play just a part...nooooo, he plays a whole town!

Yeah, if you want to avoid the rude, avoid Vegas.
( flirting with badgers What? It sounded good at the time., Tue 3 Jun 2008, 19:10, closed)