Look, I don't hate you that much. I probably don't hate you at all. But I definitely hate the occasion that brings us together. I get cramps every time I meet you. I know it's not your fault. I know you're trying your best to make me comfy. I know you're pretty and smart (at least smarter than your sister), but tell me how could I make that work to my advantage in the fucking stratosphere? I told you about the cramps right? It's the seat. My cheap self flying economy class. But you understand peer pressure works in a reverse way too, don't you? What my friends and colleague are going to say about me when they get a whiff that I've flown the flat bed? And then there's Climate Change and Global Warming. I don't care to what extent man kind are culpable in screwing up the planet, but I fucking know the flight is getting shakier every time. We are 40,000 feet above sea level, that should mean immunity from volatile weather, right? well it doesn't. Air turbulences. Damn air fronts are playing squash with my heart beat. Look, I know it's safe. Stop regurgitating the same hollow assurances over and over. I bet you don't believe them yourself. Argh, how I wish I could strip off my seat belt and strangle the fattie next to me, I mean, not only he occupies more space than politically correct, he also doesn't miss a meal or a refreshment. And then he needs to go to the loo. And suddenly I burst laughing, "MMFD"!! that's my location. I remember I read somewhere that American AF air traffic controllers in the first gulf war were left baffled when many times their British counterparts would report their locations as MMFD. Nowhere on the map there was an MMFD. Look around, buddies, MMFD is everywhere. Hey, you could use that! ever got passengers asking you where were they? tell them, it's MMFD!
Aww... you look kind of lovely all of the sudden. Come where, lean over...the cramps are easing off... what's that? what you saying? I thought we're going to kiss?! what? a sleeping pill in my orange juice??