Mile High Country Club

I love planes. And flying. And traveling. But if you've flown enough (or even just once. Or even just met another human being), you know that people are weird as weird sometimes. I often wonder if airports bring out the extreme in people - maybe they are dressing up for the special privilege of sitting in a metal tube with 200 strangers for 5 hours, 36000 feet above the earth? - or if humanity really is just that strange. Once I sat next to a woman who wrapped her arm (elbow to finger tips) with an ace bandage, then with gauze, then another ace bandage, and finally with masking tape. Her perfectly healthy looking arm. (And yes, I got a picture.) Or, there is that one time I flew 11 hours from Honolulu to Atlanta and sat next to an intoxicated, overweight, incredibly rude middle-aged man whose left arm kept falling onto my right leg and who sprayed me with his yogurt cup when he attempted to open it. I cried for half the flight. There always seem to be incessant talkers who take the challenge to talk to you through your ear buds, guys who hit on you despite you closing your eyes and turning the other way, people who apparently are always angry, and people who need better oral hygiene. I usually hope I get seated next to disinterested sleepers!

And then, magically, you find 36E and sit down only to discover an amazing seat mate who makes the whole cramped experience worth it. On my way to Spain, I sat next to Inez from Catalonia who was currently living in Minnesota and studying to be a veterinarian. She taught me some common Spanish phrases (and reminded me how to say spoon), told me about the different parts of the country, and gave me her email and phone number in case I needed a friend while I was there, even though I would be on the opposite side of the country. Most recently, I sat next to a girl about my age who lived near my hometown and was traveling to Seattle for business. We talked a little on the flight and then the entire way from the gate to baggage claim. She told me about her job and showed me pictures of her year-old twin girls, and I told her about the twin girls I babysit. It was quite pleasant. When we realized we were heading back the same day, we looked to see if we had the same flight (we didn't. Boo). I hope her return flight seat mates realize how luck they are to get her and not the drunk yogurt guy :)