I don't fight / I don't argue / I just hit that bitch with a bottle
~Miss B
I'm back from Alaska. Pictures are online here.
I'm still recovering from the trip. I miss my early twenties when I could go out every night, survive on four hours of sleep and treat my body like an immigrant in a sweatshop with no ill effects. Now, if I skip my morning cup of coffee I'm like a head trauma patient the rest of the day.
So in hindsight the decision to book myself on the redeye home was probably a poor one. At the time I did it, I thought it would be easier and cheaper than spending money on a hotel or hostel in Anchorage. I didn't figure that as the trip was drawing to a close we'd all be going out more and I'd only be getting about four hours of sleep a night in a cold tent pitched on a rocky beach.
By the time I got on the plane at midnight, all I wanted to do was sleep. Alaska Air had fucked me into a middle seat but I didn't care. Since I was just going to pass out for the next six hours, I would have been content to fly in the lavatory if I had to. Now, I'm not really in a position to make fun of people's weight, as I'm not as svelte as I once was, but the girl in the window seat had me by about 60 pounds. She literally had to fight the armrest down past her thighs when she spotted me coming. I may be heavy, but I still fit into the airline seats.
The kid in the isle seat wasn't a lightweight either but he didn't look like something poured into a garbage bag and left in the sun to ferment. He was, however, wearing a plaid shirt, beard, Che Guevara baseball cap and designer sunglasses. He could have been the spokesman for an Alaskan Fifth Avenue, equal parts fashion and wilderness.
But that's not what bothered me about these two. What bothered me was the "sheep to the slaughter" looks of happiness they wore. It's the kind of look that only comes from the abdication of any sort of independent thought. And looking around, there were a bunch of them. Alaska Air hadn't just fucked me into a middle seat. They'd fucked me into a middle seat in a nest of Jesus Freaks.*
So I squeeze myself into the seat and close my eyes. This is the conversation:
Girl: I so totally read the ticket wrong. Do you want this seat? I totally thought I had the window seat.
Guy: No, it's okay. I had the window seat on the way here.
Girl: I totally didn't do it on purpose. Are you mad? Don't be mad.
Guy: It's okay.
Girl: I just read it wrong. We can switch.
Guy: Maybe we can switch like halfway through the flight.
Girl: Okay, yeah. That's a good idea. (To her friend in another isle): Did you see what happened I totally read the ticket wrong. I'm in his seat. Isn't that funny?
She kept rambling about her inability to read but I managed to fall asleep so I'm not sure what happened next. I would have probably slept all the way to Los Angeles but I woke up to the guy shaking my shoulder.
Me: Huh? What? Did we land already?
Guy: No we're just about to take off.
It was at this point that I realized that he was holding hands with the fat girl next to me and with the girl across the isle from him. In fact, it looked like all the jesus freaks were holding hands. I had a sick feeling in my stomach.
Guy: We always say a prayer before we take off.
Let me stop here. Normally I'm a pretty even-tempered guy. I don't like jesus freaks but I'm content to let them do their thing as long as they let me do mine. Normally if someone asked me if I wanted to pray, I would just say no and leave it alone. So I don't have an explanation for what came out of my mouth next.
Guy: Would you like to say a prayer with us?
Me: I'd like to fist fuck your teeth into the back of your head.
And that was it. Even with the engines running, my voice clearly carried over the whole group who all immediately stopped talking to stare at me. I'm convinced that you could have heard a pin drop. In that moment, with them all grasping for a reaction I was afraid I would start laughing hysterically and I wouldn't be able to stop. It was so absurd, especially because I had simply meant to say no and close my eyes again. Seen from their side, I must have gone from a slightly dirty, very tired looking backpacker to a raving violent lunatic in the space of a few seconds.
Instead, I just crossed my arms and, pressed between my two fat jesus freaks, I fell asleep. The next time I opened my eyes was on the final approach into LAX.
Anyway, the pictures are here. Enjoy.
*Now before I get a ton of self-righteous indignant email let me explain something. I understand there are many people out there who are down to earth, smart, rational thinkers who also have faith. I have no quarrel with you. It's the "We're doing this for Jesus!" crowd that I dislike. If you've ever snowboarded for jesus, or skateboarded for jesus or done any other normal activity in the name of jesus instead of in the name of simple enjoyment then you should stop reading my site. I don't want you here.
Posted by Ben Corman at 4:19 PM