Mr. Sniffle

January 12, 2011

I was on a flight earlier this week, Phoenix to Dallas, on US Airways. I’m not sure why, but they put me up in First Class. Now, I haven’t flown on this airline for years, and even when I did, I was never frequent enough of a flier that I got to ride First Class.

Maybe it’s because nobody wants to go to Dallas right now due to the subarctic temperatures. Or maybe because it was one of those little commuter jets, and there’s not even a curtain between First Class and Coach. Who knows?

But there I was, sitting in 2B, enjoying the free beer and peanuts, all the while casting superior looks back at all those low-lifers in steerage. I had the aisle seat, right next to this uptight business guy who looked uncomfortable. I figured it was because he tried to nab my aisle seat before the flight, and didn’t like being crammed up against the window.

Suddenly, ten minutes into the flight, this guy starts to sniff. Sniff. Sniff. Like he had a bad case of post nasal drip. Every few seconds…Sniff. Sniff, Sniff. Sniff…Sniff…Sniff. Sniff, Sniff, Sniff. He sounded like a heavy coke addict after a weekend bender.

The sound of it was driving me batshit.

I looked sort of sideways at him, thinking,What the hell? and he rounded on me. “Is there a problem?” he said.

I shook my head no and went back to my book. But within a few minutes, he was back at it again. Sniff. Sniff, Sniff. Worse, the guy in front of us started sniffing too, and pretty soon the guy to my left started up.

The next thing I knew, I was sniffing as well, purely out of sympathy. I couldn’t help it. We were a chorus of sniffers: Sniff, Sniff…Sniff…Sniff, Sniiiiiff, Sniff, Sniff.

Maybe twenty minutes of this went by, and here came the stewardess with a box of Kleenex for the guy. With a mighty snort and a snuffle or two, he blew his nose like all get out and his sniffing finally subsided.

Luckily for all of us, he fell asleep somewhere over the Rocky Mountains. Of course, then he started to snore.

First Class was nice though.

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