Airplane Tales of Terror
Posted: Mon Jul 14, 2008 9:02 am
Lots of stuff here about wayward airplane trips. I was going through some of my old files, and found an old 'report' I submitted several years ago, and thought I would share it with y'all.
Background: well Capital One was first expanding overseas, a bunch of us got the chance to go abroad on Official Company Business. For example, as the company's in-house real estate attorney (at that time), I went over to the UK to work on the project to acquire the buildings in which we operate. At that time, Capital One would let us fly First Class/Business Class/Premier/Envoy, whatever the (expensive) quality level of service was involved (today, I suspect that if you have to travel overseas, they put you in a box with a couple airholes, give you a jar of water which you can use for other purposes when you've finished drinking the water, if you catch my drift, and send you off). JUST BECAUSE YOU ARE IN FIRST CLASS is no guarantee that you will be seated next to someone who is, himself, first class, in fact, you may find yourself next to someone with no class at all. Say, a drunk who insists that you listen to his favorite conspiracy theory (the Jesuits were behind the OJ Simpson killings). But I tarry too long: the following is a true report of one v-e-r-y looooooong flight to the UK... (um, it was also my last overseas flight on company business).
The Craven
Once inside an airplane dreary, while I nodded weak and weary,
Over documents loathsome and vile,
While I nodded, softly grumbling, suddenly there came a rumbling,
As of someone loudly stumbling, stumbling down the airplane aisle.
“’Tis some passenger,” I mumbled, “tumbling down the airplane aisle,
“Only this and nothing more.”
Then he turned into my row, took a seat by my window,
And quickly made my loathing grow. Soon I found he was a bore:
Helplessly I let him speak out; -- fearing that I might just freak out,
Hoping that I soon could break out -- Break out through the airplane door--
Through the dim and distant exit, out the beck’ning airplane door.
Not stay there forevermore.
Babbling first of St. Ignatius, then of O.J. (so pugnacious)
Thrilled me -- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before.
“Come, sweet death and grant me peace!” -- how I prayed for my release!
Even in Hell’s lowest circle, no soul ever suffered more,
Than I suffered on that airplane, seated by that boor.
“Let it end forevermore!”
Suddenly this drunk grew quiet, ending all my thoughts of riot.
Soon I heard him softly snoozing, snoozing due to all his boozing.
“Sir,” said I, “you’ll never know, how close you came your life to losing.
“Should you waken from your slumber, then I’ll tear your limbs asunder.
“Waken and your days are numbered.
“This last day, and not one more.”
Settled back in my own seat, editing a Non-Compete,
I looked forward to the feast the crew was then preparing.
Then I heard a dreadful sound, forced myself to turn around,
And saw my neighbor giving ground, to peristalsis, upside down!
“Take me now, oh Lord,” I prayed, “and do not let me linger!
“Let it end for evermore!”
As I watched and heard him spewing, I wondered what the crew was doing?
Why did no one heed my bell, leaving me alone in Hell?
Leaving me to catch the vomit, heaving forth like some vile comet?
When at last the crew did come, the sights they saw struck them all dumb,
‘Til one Brit lass did grab some towels to clean the mess from this bum’s bowels.
Merely this and nothing more.
Then at last I took my leave, hoping nothing soiled my sleeve.
Still the wretch did hurl and heave. All these sights and sounds and smells --
Drawn, it seemed, from endless wells -- did my hunger pains dispel.
Then, I asked, “What if he dies, while we hurtle through the skies?
“Surely we can end his tour, just kick his ass right out the door?
“Darkness there, and nothing more.”
“No,” said she, “that’s just not done. Not to him, nor anyone.
“Although to you it may seem fitting, it simply can’t be done.”
She told me then how much they treasured, keeping constant cabin pressure,
Which would be lost if we dared open any of the airplane doors.
That sad answer, nothing more.
Fearing that this man might die (or fearful of explaining why…),
They asked a doctor to stop by. It seems no doctor heard their prayer,
But one brave nurse did show up there, to do her best to render care.
Although she had no bed nor table, nonetheless she was quite able
To pump him out till he was stable.
Only this and nothing more.
The stench around us made us weep, yet he who caused it fell asleep:
Wrapped in blankets -- naked heap! -- asleep beside my empty seat.
I dared not take that spacious chair, although Cap One had paid the fare
(Lawyers never tempt the fates). Would I take another flight?
Would another time be right? If they asked me, would I tour?
Quoth this lawyer: “Nevermore.”
Background: well Capital One was first expanding overseas, a bunch of us got the chance to go abroad on Official Company Business. For example, as the company's in-house real estate attorney (at that time), I went over to the UK to work on the project to acquire the buildings in which we operate. At that time, Capital One would let us fly First Class/Business Class/Premier/Envoy, whatever the (expensive) quality level of service was involved (today, I suspect that if you have to travel overseas, they put you in a box with a couple airholes, give you a jar of water which you can use for other purposes when you've finished drinking the water, if you catch my drift, and send you off). JUST BECAUSE YOU ARE IN FIRST CLASS is no guarantee that you will be seated next to someone who is, himself, first class, in fact, you may find yourself next to someone with no class at all. Say, a drunk who insists that you listen to his favorite conspiracy theory (the Jesuits were behind the OJ Simpson killings). But I tarry too long: the following is a true report of one v-e-r-y looooooong flight to the UK... (um, it was also my last overseas flight on company business).
The Craven
Once inside an airplane dreary, while I nodded weak and weary,
Over documents loathsome and vile,
While I nodded, softly grumbling, suddenly there came a rumbling,
As of someone loudly stumbling, stumbling down the airplane aisle.
“’Tis some passenger,” I mumbled, “tumbling down the airplane aisle,
“Only this and nothing more.”
Then he turned into my row, took a seat by my window,
And quickly made my loathing grow. Soon I found he was a bore:
Helplessly I let him speak out; -- fearing that I might just freak out,
Hoping that I soon could break out -- Break out through the airplane door--
Through the dim and distant exit, out the beck’ning airplane door.
Not stay there forevermore.
Babbling first of St. Ignatius, then of O.J. (so pugnacious)
Thrilled me -- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before.
“Come, sweet death and grant me peace!” -- how I prayed for my release!
Even in Hell’s lowest circle, no soul ever suffered more,
Than I suffered on that airplane, seated by that boor.
“Let it end forevermore!”
Suddenly this drunk grew quiet, ending all my thoughts of riot.
Soon I heard him softly snoozing, snoozing due to all his boozing.
“Sir,” said I, “you’ll never know, how close you came your life to losing.
“Should you waken from your slumber, then I’ll tear your limbs asunder.
“Waken and your days are numbered.
“This last day, and not one more.”
Settled back in my own seat, editing a Non-Compete,
I looked forward to the feast the crew was then preparing.
Then I heard a dreadful sound, forced myself to turn around,
And saw my neighbor giving ground, to peristalsis, upside down!
“Take me now, oh Lord,” I prayed, “and do not let me linger!
“Let it end for evermore!”
As I watched and heard him spewing, I wondered what the crew was doing?
Why did no one heed my bell, leaving me alone in Hell?
Leaving me to catch the vomit, heaving forth like some vile comet?
When at last the crew did come, the sights they saw struck them all dumb,
‘Til one Brit lass did grab some towels to clean the mess from this bum’s bowels.
Merely this and nothing more.
Then at last I took my leave, hoping nothing soiled my sleeve.
Still the wretch did hurl and heave. All these sights and sounds and smells --
Drawn, it seemed, from endless wells -- did my hunger pains dispel.
Then, I asked, “What if he dies, while we hurtle through the skies?
“Surely we can end his tour, just kick his ass right out the door?
“Darkness there, and nothing more.”
“No,” said she, “that’s just not done. Not to him, nor anyone.
“Although to you it may seem fitting, it simply can’t be done.”
She told me then how much they treasured, keeping constant cabin pressure,
Which would be lost if we dared open any of the airplane doors.
That sad answer, nothing more.
Fearing that this man might die (or fearful of explaining why…),
They asked a doctor to stop by. It seems no doctor heard their prayer,
But one brave nurse did show up there, to do her best to render care.
Although she had no bed nor table, nonetheless she was quite able
To pump him out till he was stable.
Only this and nothing more.
The stench around us made us weep, yet he who caused it fell asleep:
Wrapped in blankets -- naked heap! -- asleep beside my empty seat.
I dared not take that spacious chair, although Cap One had paid the fare
(Lawyers never tempt the fates). Would I take another flight?
Would another time be right? If they asked me, would I tour?
Quoth this lawyer: “Nevermore.”
