Monday, February 18, 2008

Across the Atlantic, I Think

I'm going to Portland this week for a writing conference, and I'm in
a difficult place right now. The passenger beside me has an odor
problem. When I got up to let him in during boarding, he breathed his
unimaginable bad breath my way, knocking me down and summoning all
Christian charity that I have. He took off his worn tennis shoes and
pushed them on my side, like an annoying big brother trying to claim
unclaimed territory. He then has a habit of raising his arms in a
stretch, extending the reach of an unholy stench. He constantly
coughs, and he has a nose whistle.

Other than that, the flight is going swimmingly.

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