Combat Boots and a Scotch on the Rocks

I heard her before I saw her.  She was louder than she should have been in her conversation with the woman leaning against the wall.  I didn’t like what I heard either.  I crossed my fingers she wasn’t in line next to me and was thankful she wasn’t.  I could still hear her however.  @3$*C%X#.  Not words I use or care to listen to.

We boarded the plane and were thankful she was in the next group to board, but I was thankful too soon.  She sat down in the empty seat right behind us.  The woman next to me sighed as well.  My husband and I looked at each other and contemplated moving ourselves, but had just put our things away and were now settled for the three-hour flight.  We decided to stay put.  This is a decision we would soon regret.

Together our row was secretly praying she would fall asleep and the rest of the flight would be just fine, but no such luck.  She talked or rather @3$*C%X# the entire flight. @3$*C%X# this, @3$*C%X# that, @3$*C%X# this and that.   It was unbelievable. Not only was there swearing but completely inappropriate discussions about things you just don’t discuss on an airplane with strangers! Everyone around us began to mumble to themselves under their breath about her, yet none of us said one word to her. 

I should have politely asked her to refrain from her language choices until we reached our destination for the benefit of the 15 year old girl sitting in between her and the window passenger (who I might add, continued to egg her on incessantly the entire flight and joined in the swearing fest occasionally so as not to be outdone by her counterpart). There was also a row of two children two rows in front of her under the age of 10 who I know could hear her as well.   But I didn’t.  We didn’t.  None of us did.  Why? 

No one wants to create a fuss or ruckus.  We all just want to be in our own little worlds and be left alone to read, nap or eat our sandwich.  I know for a fact she was bothering my seatmate as well as the family directly across from her, yet none of us said one word to her, nor did the flight attendants.  No, they actually gave her a free drink of scotch on the rocks for her service as a Marine.  Go figure.  Not only had she been sharing her drinking escapades from New Year’s but admitted she was still a little hung over.  I know.  Let’s give her a drink to honor her and ruin at least eight other people’s flights. 

When we landed, we couldn’t have been happier to find out that she was going on to a destination different from our own.  What a relief!  My seatmate however was gathering her things and looking for a new seat, as she was to continue on with our lovely passenger.

Upon de-boarding we quickly made a plan to be a little more observant on our seat selection for our return trip.  No screaming, crying children who required a pacifier and no twenty-four year old potty mouthed scotch drinking women wearing combat boots would be on our list of candidates for seatmates.  We’d be on the look out for computer engrossed, book reading adults who only nodded at us rather than spoke to us.  My kind of passengers!