Our flight from Baltimore to Las Vegas was a special one because of this lady who decided she was going to go out of her way to epically disturb everyone within three rows of her in their own special way. She also made me firmly believe that Grey Gardens is now a traveling show. From here on out, I’m calling her GGL (Grey Gardens Lady).
She sat on the aisle with two seats to her left. I sat on the aisle across from GGL with two people to my right. Here’s a breakdown of her idiotness affecting us all.
Guy in window seat, her aisle: This dumbass thought it great to bring up the fact that he owned a cat just like her. How does he know this? GGL brought the damned beast onto the plane and crammed it in a travel case too small for its wide girth and so it meowed and yammered nearly the whole flight. He thought it was kinda cute for the first hour but that devolved by the time we passed over Missouri.
Woman in middle seat next to her: Already confined to the second-worst seat on the plane (first has to be any seat in the aisle near the back-of-the-plane bathroom) She suffered the most of anyone by any measure on the planet. It was a nightmare of Elm Street-ian proportions. GGL wouldn’t shut up the entire time and made her and the guy always climb over her instead of standing up and moving out of the way to let them get to the bathroom. And honestly, no words can describe how much GGL talked about shit that woman wanted no part of. When we all departed the plane, no fewer than eight passengers offered to buy her a drink at the nearest Vegas airport bar. At one point during the flight, my wife looked over and mouthed “I’m sorry” to the woman, who got big eyes and mouthed back “HELP ME.” I wish I were kidding.
The wife, seated next to me: Her fascination went into fever pitch when GGL decided it was time to spend 90 minutes applying makeup. In her seat. With no lights. Using a compact mirror as a guide. She may as well have been blindfolded. She wasn’t shy about applying many layers, many shades and many, many types of makeup. She had all this in a purse that she kept tucked between her legs and the cat for much of the flight.
Off-duty flight attendant, widow seat, my aisle: He kept assuring us that everything would be fine, that this woman couldn't possibly get the plane diverted unless she set the cat free or decided to throw a bigger fit when ...
On-duty flight attendant, roaming the plane: First, when the plane was taking off, GGL refused to take her three carryons and put them under her seat. Then she refused, once discovered that she had three carryons, to put at least two of them above her because, and I'm quoting directly here, "My gloves are in that bag, and I don't let my gloves away from me ever." Oh yeah, her gloves. Grey Gardens, people. Grey. Fucking. Gardens. Third, she decided as we landed that she should get up and start heading toward the door to exit. And I say "as we landed" because she had her seat unbuckled and was making a move to stand up as the pilots were still applying the brakes as we touched down. This ignited ...
Off-duty flight attendant, widow seat, my aisle: He snapped into a deep baritone and went all angry James Earl Jones or some shit and scared the hell out of her and a few other passengers with his "ma'am, sit down immediately and buckle that seat belt. I mean, immediately." It was awesome. GGL thought some random jackass was saying it, but when she shot a glance past me and saw it was from an in-uniform attendant, she huffed but sat still.
Last but not least, me: My favorite moment from her had to be when she suddenly became mobile and went to the bathroom. With the cat. And then didn't come out of the bathroom for 27 minutes. I timed it. I'm sure it was just a case of letting the cat out, but it's not like the bathroom is built like a spacious den. It's a airplane bathroom. As they say, you can love your pets, just don't love your pets. It was creepy. I'm just glad she didn't exit the bathroom smoking a cigarette.
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