Cheese Fries

I’m on my usual United flight 132 from SFO to Chicago O’Hare. It leaves at 6:20 AM. This means that I must leave Santa Rosa at 2:30 AM to ride the Sonoma County Airport Express. I know the routine well. The bus is never busy that time of the morning but it does have several United employees as riders. They choose to ride rather than drive. This is smart because they get to sleep. They settle in, cover their eyes and off to sleep they go.

Not used to these early morning travels, I have a bit of adrenalin keeping me awake. We are somewhere in Marin County when I begin to doze off. Just as slumber is overtaking me, the lightly snoring United employee across the aisle from me farts really loud. Because I never grew up, and because I am dead-tired I get the silent giggles. About ten seconds later the smell of that man’s loins reaches my stinging nostrils. Just at that horrible moment the man snorts and wakes himself up. He sees me giggling and looks me right in the eye. Then he asks, “Was that me?” as he smells his shame. All I could do was smile and nod “Yes.” “Sorry,” he said and off to sleep he went.

You’d think it was over but the fun had just begun. After waiting for the United counter to open at 5:15 AM, I checked in and headed off to find a Starbucks, the only food establishment open that early I have learned from experience. I get some orange juice and a croissant for breakfast. I sit and enjoy my light meal then head to my gate just as my number is called.

Luckily, the aisle seat next to my window seat remains empty as the doors close. I look forward to the extra space. At that moment a large unkempt and odiferous gentleman sits down next to me. He must have been stuck in a middle seat behind me somewhere and saw a golden opportunity. He immediately settled in and removed his well-worn battle-gray Wal*Mart velcro sneakers. The smell of his feet should have set off alarms. The plane started to move and there were no other empty seats in sight. I was trapped. He crammed a ball of newspapers under the seat in front of him, then he lifted a foot onto his lap, removed his sock and started to pick at his feet. It was at this moment I felt myself wanting to cry.

I crammed my earphones into my head and listened to the pilot channel looking for some relief. With my eyes closed I could feel the plane lift off and I could smell every new layer of skin being peeled off the bottom of Mr. Stinky’s feet. Just as we leveled off I began to doze off. The flight always goes by faster if you can sleep.

I am fast asleep when I feel someone poking me. The same fingers used to peel away layers of dead, fungus-infested foot skin were now poking into my shoulder. The more I ignored him the harder he poked. I opened my eyes and pulled out my headphones. The man pointed to the snack cart and said very loudly, “You missed the drinks.” “I really didn’t want anything,” I replied. I could tell this was the first time he had ever flown and he was so excited about the free soda he had to tell someone, even if that someone was obviously sleeping.

Then the most curious thing happened. He asked, “Are you hungry?” And before I could answer he reached under the seat and pulled out that crumpled wad of newspapers. He carefully opened it to reveal a sickening, cold lump of greasy cheese fries. He picked one up and offered it to me with the same fingers he was using to pick at his feet. Politely, I declined. I put the headphones back on and tried to keep from vomiting.

With my eyes closed I began to think about what just happened. You see, the only thing open in the United terminal at SFO at that time in the morning is Starbucks. But at Starbucks, they do not serve cheese fries. One can deduce that this fine gentleman was out at some fine eating establishment the night before and saved some of his cheese fries, in a wad of newspaper, knowing he would want them for breakfast on the plane the next morning. I imagined what the TSA thought as they X-rayed his cheese fries. Does this kind of thing happen every day? Did they search his fries? Did they find this behavior strange? Or did they just let him through and think, “I’d hate to be the poor guy sitting next to him.”