Sometimes it sucks to fly, especially with “that lady.” Maybe she’s realted to sumdood. Here is an open letter to, “that lady:”
Dear “that lady,”
I kow you need to get places, because you seem to be on every flight I ever take. It’s odd, because you never look the same. Must be expensive to change your appearance so radically that often. Let me offer some friendly advice to make your next flight more enjoyable – mostly for me, because I know you’re blisfully unaware of the effects your behaviour has on others.
If have the need to transport something the size of a dead yak, kindly check it. it will not fit in the overhead bin. PS – It also freaks me out when you try to slam the plastic bin shut to make it fit. I feel like it’s going to break.
You don’t need to be in the first boarding group, so stop throwing a fit when you aren’t. If your bags are appropriately sized we can all fit. And try sitting somewhere other than the front for a change – that way you can hold up less than the entire plan while struggling to fit your animal carcas into the overhead bin.
Once you’ve thinned out your bag a bit so it can be crammed into overhead storage, that junk on your lap also has to go. Don’t get combative when you’re told it needs to be stowed. This includes any protest about needing “my knitting” or snacks for “my blood sugar” – this of course spoken between fist fulls of said snack. If you lost some weight, I can almost guarantee your blood sugar would be less of a problem.
When the flight attendant poked you to see if you were alive for the drink service, I was secrety hoping you weren’t. I think she felt the same way, since when you didn’t rouse initially and she asked me to be her “witness.”
One last thing, if you have an emergency, I am so not helping you.
PS – I’ll call ahead to make sure we’ve got extrication and heavy rescue when we land so there’s a chance of getting your bag out of the bin.