Hey y'all. So yesterday my friend Bundy punched herself in the nose while adjusting her bra strap...hmmm...she might not haven't wanted me to share that little nugget of the story, but oh well. Anynoodle, in honor of Bundy's self beating, I decided to post an old boog(hee) pulled from my myspace page in which I chronicle my own nose-punching. Here's to you, Bund!
So yesterday I was on a Southwest flight back from Buffalo, and was sitting in quite possibly the worst seat ever, the window seat in the very last row, seat 24A. The plane starts to narrow at that point, so the window seat there is quite a bit tinier than the other seats on the plane. Now, for any of you who have seen my badunk-a-dunk, you know that one thing this girl does not need is a smaller seat. Anydoodle, I couldn't switch seats because there were no empty seats on the flight. I mean, I could have switched w/ Joy but I don't like the middle, nor did I want to be all up on the stranger who had the aisle. I would rather be all up on the window.
Another thing I noticed about this row of seats was the the space between the seat in front of us was considerably smaller than the space in any of the other rows, so when the gentleman in front of me put his seat back, I could kiss him on the forehead without moving forward, which I did several times, just to make him feel good. The flight wasn't too miserable, until we actually landed and the rear door was opened in order for the garbage to be removed. The artic wind came rushing into the rear of the cabin, and then sucked back out again, taking anything that wasn't nailed down. We sat huddled together for warmth with the stranger that I previously hadn't wanted to bother. Our coats were several rows in front of us, shoved into some overhead bin, so all we had was our sweatshirts and our body warmth. When it was finally time for us to deplane an hour later, (seriously people, what the eff are you doing up there that causes you to take such a long friggin time to gather your belongings and get the eff off the plane? grab your sh*t and go. there are people FREEZING TO DEATH in the back of the plane. lickety split, beeyotches!), I grabbed my back pack from underneath my seat and pulled it out as fast as I could. Because my fingers were a wee bit frostbitten, I lost my grip on my pack and promptly...punched myself in the nose. I was stunned, kind of like I would be if someone just walked up to me and, well, punched me in the nose. I regained my composure, felt for blood, grabbed the pack and...did it again. Not as hard the second time, but still hard enough to bring tears to my eyes. After 2 punches from Meta Tyson, I decided enough was enough and pulled the pack out with my feet, shoved it into the aisle, and picked it up. As I was walking through the jetway, I started cracking up, and Joy was all "what's so funny?". So I told her I punched myself in the nose while trying to get my backpack. She was sympathetic, she did ask if I was okay after she calmed down from her hysterical laughter. What a sweetie...
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