Oh Horror,
Oh Tragedy.
My own personal hell.
Here i am locked in this metal tube 36,000 feet above the cursed earth and what comes into my company?
My bane,
My archenemy
My kryptonite
The Banana
Arg Fuck, not a single, yellow, demon fruit...
not two or six in the fourty feet of this business class cabin. But Dozens, maybe hundreds.
Oh Horror,
Oh Travesty.
For those unawae, the scent of this ethylene spewing monstrosity has been known to make me feel ill. Hell, a single discarded peel, hidden away, used, browning and decomposing the the lower corner of a little black garbage can 200 yards from my present location has been known to throw me into fits, fights against my own gag reflex.
And here i am. Locked in this little metal tube, filled with recycled air and overwhelmed with the repulsive scent of thousands of these dastardly, pale, textureless fingers of monkey love. God, there are enough in this plane to completely cover your average sized wheelchair ramp.
Close my eyes.
Try not to breathe.
Turn up that little aeroplane air jet as high as it goes. keep the smell moving past my delicate nostrils.
Pray for a speedy flight and in the same breath, curse the god that allowed this torture.
Laugh at this cosmic joke as i choke on your own bile.
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