Air travel and the occasional nut job.

Yesterday Dan and I hopped on an airplane in Cleveland, where it has been approximately 330* every day since we arrived back in June.  We arrived in Dallas about two hours later…where it has been approximately 330* every day since we arrived in June.  Consistency people.  It’s important.

When we boarded the plane, I didn’t get a good look at the lady directly behind me.  I sat down, buckled in, listened to my husband feign complete and utter horror because the flight attendant didn’t tell us what to do in the case of a water landing during her speech (we haven’t had rain in WEEKS.  There was absolutely no chance of a water landing unless we somehow ended up in someone’s swimming pool), and pulled out my two new magazines for the trip.  The lady behind me (hereafter known as “The Nut Job”, or NJ for short) begins talking to what I assume is a small child.  “OK, Honey.  We’re going to take off now and the pilot needs you to be really quiet so he can concentrate (We’re in rows 25 and 26, by the way), Oh LOOK, sweetie, we’re taking off!”  This goes on pretty much for the duration of the flight.  A little sappy, but since her child wasn’t screaming his head off like the one in front of me, I didn’t complain.

In between talking to her little one and requesting root beers for it from the harried flight attendant, NJ strikes up a conversation with the lady next to her.  (If we’re ever on a plane together, please do not feel the need to strike up a conversation with me.  I don’t even talk to Dan.  Don’t take it personally).  As we are approaching Dallas, the conversation goes something like this:

NJ “Where are you connecting to”?

Other lady “Houston.  It’s my home”.

NJ ‘How far is that from Dallas”?

OL “Well, if I drive, about 3 1/2 hours.  Flying, it’s about 45 minutes”.

NJ “OHHH!  Texas is THAT BIG”?

OL *insert stunned silence*

NJ “So why didn’t you just fly out of Houston then”?

I’m giving serious kudos to the other lady for not bursting into laughter.  Or calling security.   As we land, NJ begins talking to her little one again.  “Oh, LOOK, honey!  We’re in Texas!  We’ve never been to Texas!  Did you like the flight?  Was your root beer good”?  On and on and on.  When I stood up, I casually turned around to get a glimpse of her and the child, and fully intended on congratulating her on how quiet the child had been during the flight.  Friends…she was flying with a PINK TEDDY BEAR.  I swear, I’m not making this up.  She’s got the bear pressed up against the window, cooing and squealing at it about being in Texas for the first time…I sat back down in stunned silence, and as you all know, it takes a lot to stun me into silence.  I can honestly say that I’ve never encountered someone quiet this batty on a flight.  Generally it’s just the run-of-the-mill irritating people that have absolutely no idea how to participate in air travel without embarrassing themselves, their family, and generally their country of origin.

This one might just have rocketed to the top of my “favorite flights ever” list.  And I’ll never be able to look at a pink teddy bear in the same way again.

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