Don't Fly At Midnight...

... 'cause that's when the weirdos like to take their trips!

I took a midnight flight to Seattle and from there to Sacramento. The midnight flights were cheaper, so I thought hey, it's cheaper and maybe it'll be nice and quiet and not too packed.

Huh.

It was packed to the gills. On my left side sat a decent enough young gentleman, a little on the chatty side.

On my right flopped a scruffy-looking man in his forties. The first thing I noticed was that I couldn't breathe. A cloud of alcohol hit my face so hard I swore I could get drunk off it myself. The nice guy on my left said, "No, oh, no."

The drunk guy kept alternating between staring at me and reaching across me to poke the other guy and bother him with phrases that made me think they were having trouble before they even got on this flight. Inwardly, I groaned. Three hours of choking alcohol stench and two guys who won't let me sleep. I knew before the flight was through I'd be standing up and chewing this drunk guy out for something. He'd probably have to be stuffed in the airline restroom for lack of space. Or maybe they could've chucked him in cargo or something.

Anyway, at one point the drunk guy starts bothering me. "So what do you do?"

With deadpan expression, I replied, "Martial arts."

Didn't phase him. "Oh yeah? For how long?"

"Mmm, about 12 years."

"Oh." Long pause. "Is that all?"

"Yup."

"Ever break any boards with your head?"

"No, but my husband has."

"Ever break any boards at all?"

"Oh, yeah, several with my fists."

Apparently, all my hints of "I can tear you to tiny pieces if you try anything" are slipping right through one ear and out the other. This man was lost to cognitive abilities of any kind.

And then my angel appeared: One of the older flight attendants swooped down like the wrath of the great Warrior Goddess and demanded to see the drunk guy's tickets. She asked if he had any stuff in the overhead racks. When he said no, she said, "Well, grab all your stuff. You're getting off this plane right now." She hustled him out of there without a single peep of argument from him.

The moment he was gone, the other guy and I looked at each other and breathed twin sighs of relief. He then told me of the trouble he'd been having with this guy in the airport. He didn't know him, but the drunk guy took exception to him for some reason and had been trying to cajole him into a fight. He had warned the flight attendants as soon as he got on the plane. It was just plain bad luck that the guy ended up sitting in the same row.

So not only did that creepy drunk get kicked off, but I got to move over to the aisle seat and we both got as much room to stretch out as we could want.

Besides that uncomfortable experience, I learned even midnight flights have their share of babies and noisy talkers. There is no advantage to taking a midnight flight except for the price. Those seats aren't good for sleeping in, either. I kept cutting off the circulation to my hands.

Ah, well. Live and learn. Tonight we karaoke in California! I can't wait!