awkward airplane rides, sweet hotels, and the lovely city of charlotte

As I was sitting in the terminal waiting for my flight this morning, I had the displeasure of encountering a man I will call Vinny. Vinny looked to be in his mid-thirties, wore too much hair product to slick back his thinning hair, and talked loudly so that all in the terminal could hear. He was a skeez. I pulled out the latest issue of Paste and started reading, hoping to tune out his meaningless babble. I heard him use the words "sex" and "orgasm" all within the course of about five minutes - while talking to a stranger, no less. Classy.

Upon boarding the plane and finding my seat next to the window, who came to join me in the aisle seat? That's right. Vinny slithered up to the seat and said, "Hey, we're gonna be neighbors." I muttered something under my breath, while Vinny continued what would be an hour-long, one-sided conversation. He mentioned as soon as he sat down that I would have to endure his New Kids On the Block. I didn't know what he was talking about until he pulled out his portable CD player and and scratchy strains of "The Right Stuff" came blasting out of his headphones. He wasn't kidding. For the entire flight I gave one-word answers to questions like, "Is that your wallet?" ... "You just goin' to Charlotte?" ... "Why don't people clap when we land anymore?" ... and so on. While not an overly large man, Vinny took up a lot of space. What with his "Virtual Best Buy in a Bag" as he called it, filled with his NKOTB collection and all. He took more of his share of the arm rest, constantly touching me with his hairy arm, and getting so close that I could smell the stale cigarettes and coffee on his breath. I tried my best to stay close to the window, keep my iPod at a high volume, and act abnormally engrossed in my magazine, which he felt the need to comment on periodically. In reference to an article about New Year's Eve parties, Vinny inserted, "I had a rockin' New Year's party last year with my cat. There was beer and pot smokin' and fireworks ... it was awesome." So, to summarize, Vinny is a balding thirty-something single man who listens to New Kids on the Block on a portable CD player, and has a cat with whom he drinks and smokes pot. I have never been so glad to get off of an airplane.

Now safely away from Vinny and at my hotel, I am enjoying having a room to myself at the Doubletree for the weekend. It is definitely a step up from most hotels that I've been to recently, and I look forward to snoozing in this lovely king-sized bed. The tour of Charlotte begins in little less than an hour, and from what I've seen already this city is beautiful. Much cleaner and more modern than Birmingham, which is a nice change (not that I don't love Birmingham's dirt and history). If all goes well this weekend, I may soon be living here. That is weird.

Did I mention that I am the oldest "student" here? I am surrounded by high school seniors and their parents. Conversation should be riveting this weekend.

Gripes:
Since when does it cost $15 to check a bag at the airport? And when did they start charging $2 for a freaking canned Diet Coke in-flight? Douchebags!