There's Always Continental

I'm not an expert flyer by any means, and after a recent experience with American Airlines, I don't know if I want to be. No, I didn't get kicked off for playing Words With Friends. That would be ridiculous! No, I had a very different experience. On a recent flight from Chicago to Cleveland, I sat beside "Ted", Ted was a businessman that travels back and forth from Chicago and Cleveland, where he is from and where his daughter goes to school. Ted was a very nice person, asking me about my Holiday plans and helping me cram my carry on into the over head compartment, except for one major flaw. Ted was incredibly intoxicated. The entire cabin was filled with the smell of hard booze. (Gag me with a spoon). If people were capable of getting contact drunks, I would have been trashed. Instead, his smell gave me a headache that (I shit you not) lasted three days.
   Ted asked me everything about myself. "Where do you live in Chicago? What do yo do in your free time? Where do you hang out? Are you in a relationship? What size shoe do you wear?" Okay, that last one I made up, but would you have been shocked. This guy was clearly a professional creep. I didn't share much information about myself, he on the other hand, went into an information purge session. He lives in Chicago and owns half the Sherwin-Williams in the Midwest. (Do you not know what Sherwin Williams is? It's no surprise, normal people go to Lowe's or Home Depot) Anyway, he went on about how that provided a very comfortable living for his Ex wife, while he was still paying off lawyers. His daughter was a money grubbing little "c**t" too.
My Brain: WHAT THE HELL?!?
   Then Ted lost track of his thoughts and showed me his watch, which looked like a Spy Kids prop, it was a massive, ugly thing with a puke green lit screen.
"Cool." I said without looking up from my copy of Skymall. He wasn't really listening to anything I said.
"Yeah," He said "I need my Blackberry on me at all times for work."
"In case of paint emergencies." I nodded
"So, when I'm flying and have to have my Blackberry off this watch syncs with my Blackberry and I can read my emails."
"So you can reply right there on your watch?"
"No, I can just read them."
"Well that sounds like a half finished technology."
"Yeah, it's great."
  He laid back in his chair and fell asleep for a moment, after about 15 minutes of peace, his heavy drunken noggin fell over onto my shoulder. 'J.H.C. Honestly, Dude?' I thought. Then after a moment of turbulence he shot up straight in his seat. I immediately began scrolling for music on my iPod.
"Hey," He said.
I began lip syncing, to a song that wasn't playing, no one is drunk enough to disturb someone listening to their iPod right? WRONG!
"HEY!" He screamed nudging me.
I pulled my headphones out, "Yeah?"
"What kind of music do you like?"
"All kinds." Short answers will tell him I'm not interested in pursuing this conversation.
"What kinds, what bands?"
"Nicki Minaj, Drake, Lil Wayne." I actually don't enjoy those musicians, at all! But this guy was probably in his early fifties and could not possibly carry on a conversation about them. Granted, I don't think I could either, but I'm young enough to identify them out of a lineup.
"I see," He said, "I like Bettie Page."
"Bettie Page wasn't a musician, she was a porn star."
"Huh?" He asked
"Nothing." I really didn't feel like getting into a confrontation with this guy and ending up on the no fly list.
"You kind of look like Bettie Page."
 (Quiver in disgust).
After an awkward beat be poked my shoulder, "You haven't really told me anything about yourself." Because, SIR, this is a flight, not a speed dating session.
Of coarse I didn't want to give him any actual information about me, this man probably already has a collage of black and white photographs of some sad woman tucked away in his closet somewhere.
So I told him, "I'm Amelia." I lived in Ohio until I was 17, then I ran away to Los Angeles where I started singing jazz. When I was 19 I began living with my boyfriend who was an actor. I told him, "I don't want to drop names, but he was a real American Beauty."
"Ohh.." He said nodding.
"Yeah, Anyway-" I told him that Mr. Spacey and I had had our outs when I was 22, and I moved to Chicago, where I have been living for the past 4 years as a Burlesque dancer and a devout leader of the Socialist Party movement."
"Wow!" He said eyes wide.
"Yep, that's me, Amelia."
  10 minutes later the flight ended, he grabbed my carry on for me and handed me his card. He told me to call him when I get back in Chicago, he would love to see me "perform" sometime.
"Will do"
  Ted's card was left on a table at Friendly's. In case you are not aware, a flight from Chicago to Cleveland last about 45 minutes, somehow Ted managed to do everything a creep should do including falling asleep on me in such a short amount of time. What a talent! If I could annoy people like that, I'd have twice as many blog postings! I am truly thankful for Ted this holiday season. The headache sucked, the conversation was creepy, but hey, I realized regardless of how insane my family actually is, there is someone out there, 100 times weirder.