By Matt Melzer
I am the jerk on the plane. I’m the guy who makes flying awful. I say all these things to flight attendants, and ask all these questions, and I’ve been imitated by none other than Sir Patrick Stewart. And before all his jokes were about kids, Dennis Leary wrote songs about me.
You’ve sat next to me, or across the row. You’ve tweeted about me, Facebooked about me, and talked about me on the whole ride home from the airport to your husband, wife, or taxi driver.
And you know what? I don’t care. You go your way, I go mine; I’m not on this plane to make any friends. So before you go home and screw yourself, let me explain to you for a minute why I do all the things I do, and why you’d be better off if you were a jerk, too.
I take the whole armrest, always
I ask endless questions at bag drop
That sign that says “bag drop” is misleading. Clearly the 75 of you waiting back there didn’t know this is also the place to try and get your flight rerouted, clear up passport issues, and ask to see a supervisor about an upgrade on my connection from San Fran to Sacramento.
I park in the airport loading zone
Oh, am I blocking you from seeing that friend you dragged out of bed to come pick your cheap ass up at six in the morning? Cell phone minutes are unlimited now. Call him and tell him you’re behind my Porsche.
I talk on my phone until it won’t work
Yes, actually, the world WILL end if I don’t tell my incompetent assistant every last detail involved in this closing. Why do you think I have this bluetooth? 1-bedroom condos don’t broker themselves.
I stand up after they ask everyone to be seated
Clearly you all missed the end of that announcement when she said “Everyone please be seated EXCEPT anyone who needs to get at their copy of ‘Mockingjay’.”
I fill the overhead bin… 10 rows in front of me
You think I’m giving this airline ANOTHER $25? When I stuff four weeks of clothes into a roller bag that’s roughly the size of a dishwasher, and my “personal” item is a hockey equipment bag, it ain’t all fitting in one overhead compartment. Also: don’t touch my stuff.
I take off my shoes
It’s a scientific fact that some medical condition I can’t think of right now happens if I don’t take my shoes off when my feet start to swell. So the choices are: I end up getting my feet amputated, or you deal with a little eau-de-gym-sock. I like my feet, so you’ll just have to deal.
I play my music so you can hear it
Headphones don’t come cheap, my friend. You can thank me later for exposing you to the high culture that is Daddy Yankee.
I badger flight attendants for an upgrade
I’m pressing this call button repeatedly to let them know I don’t fly 25,000 miles a year — domestically — so I can sit in the back with crying babies and fart smells.
I recline my seat
Credit: Getty Images
That little silver button there isn’t for decoration. So as soon as that nagging flight attendant sits down, this TV’s gonna be about four inches from your face. Your mom lied. Your vision will be fine.
I watch porn on my phone, on the plane
Don’t worry. I’ll be done in 10 minutes
I take long, long deuces in the lavatory
Shame this bathroom isn’t as comfortable as my one at home. But it’s still a bathroom, and I plan on reading the entire sports section while I’m on the can. Relax, it’s just the USA Today I stole from the hotel.
I race up four rows as soon as the plane lands
I don’t even have a connection to make. I just like getting in the habit of racing off the plane so I can get away from you people as fast as I can.
I keep my light on ALL NIGHT LONG
While all you lazy also-rans are wasting these six hours sleeping, I’m getting an edge by reading the entire Wall Street Journal, Investors Business Daily and “Tipping Point.” How do you think I got that sweet Porsche?
I do yoga in the aisles
Your incessant need to get to the bathroom is really messing up my chakra. My doctor said I need to relax. You can get back there after I spend another two minutes in downward dog.
I bring homemade food
Credit: Matthew Mendoza/Flickr
Don’t hate just because you’re paying $10 for a cold turkey sandwich and I paid $2 for my legendary curried onions and herring with durian for dessert.
I get belligerent at TSA
Those perverts aren’t getting a free peek at an anonymous silhouette of my junk. And this whole “no liquids” thing is clearly the government giving into the powerful airport-newsstand lobby to get us all to pay $3.99 for a bottle of water. Fight the power! Viva la revolución! Who’s with me????!!!!
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