Sunday, April 08, 2007
There's nothing quite so awkward as climbing over someone in those itty bitty airplane seats only to hear a large ripping noise and to suddenly realize that the breeze you're feeling isn't coming from the fan above, but rather from the fresh hole in the seat of your pants, my pants specifically. Somehow I'd manage to catch the pocket of my favorite pair of green cargo pants (which had admittedly seen better days prior to this most unfortunate incident) on the corner of the arm rest as I clambered back to my seat. Fortunately for me it was Matt I was climbing over, not a stranger. Of course I thought of packing an extra pair of socks and undies should retrieving our luggage fail to coincide with our arrival in Kansas City, but an extra pair of pants was not something I had planned for. But after some quick maneuvering and the assistance of the nearest flight attendant (who most certainly was from the Dallas area based on the number of times she called me "hon"), I patched up my new breezy bits with a bit of masking tape and a whole lot of finesse. Glad I have a proper reason to do some serious shopping now.