This didn't stop her from trying though. Have you ever seen toddlers who slams themselves against highchairs, or throws themselves on the floor while throwing a fit? That was what she looked like. She couldn't quite accept the fact that the chair was broken, and couldn't recline, so she just kept bashing into it for like 15 minutes--apparently expecting a different result with each body slam. It was kind of like watching a monkey on a trampoline--she would hit the chair, and the chair would hit her back.
Eventually, the flight attendant came by, and she stopped her to troubleshoot the problem. After concluding that the chair was broken, and would not recline, the girl said, "Well, aren't you going to compensate me for this problem?" The flight attendant looked at her with a "Don't Mess With Texas" look in her eye and said, "NO--you will NOT be compensated for that!" I felt like kicking the girl's chair the whole 5 hours, 1 minute, and 37 seconds up to Anchorage, and saying, "There's your compensation, you self-entitled monkey fluffer!" Seriously--who asks that?
I hate bananas. Bananas taint EVERYTHING. If you put banana in ANYTHING, you can only ever taste the banana. Today was no exception, and the air I was breathing in close proximity to the Russian-banana-eater-man smelled like I was breathing in frickin' bananas. I couldn't get away from it. And the fasten seat belt sign was still on, so it was like being trapped in banana jail (hell).
After he finished the stupid banana, that wasn't the end of the snack. Then he pulled out a small white grocery bag--one that looked like he had just scraped up a small pile of dog crap from Paris Hilton's little punt dog at the doggie park. He untied it, and started stuffing his face full of seeds.
He'd put 1 to 2 seeds in his mouth at a time. This wouldn't have been a big deal, except for the fact that he had to crack every seed open with his teeth, and then spit all the shells out into his little puppy poo bag. To make matters worse--then his wife started in on it, too. It was like sitting in a birdcage with a seat belt on, but I was the only bird who wasn't participating in the buffet. Seed shrapnel was flying everywhere. I'm lucky I made it out of there with both my eyeballs, and my vision intact. They did get up to use the restroom though, so it wasn't like we were all sharing the same newspaper in the birdcage (or were we, since we had the common airplane lavatories?).
Well, because my laptop was three rows up in the overhead compartment, and I didn't get up to get it during the flight because they constantly warn us about the likelihood of things shifting in the overhead bins during the flight. It would've been just my luck to stand up, open up the bin, and try to take it out while it plummets out, and gives 93-year-old Aunt Millie in seat 29D a concussion. That, and I needed something to do for 5 hours, 1 minute, and 37 seconds that didn't involve swiping a credit card in the seat back TV to entertain myself. Handwriting a blog seemed like a good alternative.