When New Yorkers Fly the Friendly Skies

I knew I was going to see some characters during my trek to Atlanta on the busiest traveling day in the country--the morning before Thanksgiving. The family sitting across from me on the plane were perfect examples of the typical aggressive, self-centered NY travelers.

As we settled into the plane, a father was looking for a place to store his luggage in the overhead compartment but there wasn't much space. Instead of looking in a different compartment (the plane wasn't full yet), he pulled out someone's red jacket and said, "Whose is this?"

A younger guy looked up and said, "Hey! That's my jacket!"
"Well, I need to put my bag up here."
"That's not my problem. I was here first. You can't take my stuff out just for your things," said the owner of the jacket angrily.
"Where am I supposed to put my stuff then?" the father asked.

Instead of pressing the matter, he resorted to doing what everyone else has to do when they look for space; he pushed all the suitcases over to the side, and--shock of the world--there was room for his bag. Then his 60-year-old botox-injected wife with collagen lips the size of german sausages sat down.

She got the flight attendent's attention and asked, "Excuse me. We have another flight to catch in Atlanta so can you let us off the plane first?"

Ironically, they were sitting just 4 rows behind first class. I couldn't hear what the attendant said but I was hoping it was something like: "You are no more important than these other parasites I have to cater to on this plane! Many passengers need to catch flights so why would we roll out the red carpet to let you and your nasty family get off first?"

After the flight attendant walked away, Mr. Wonderful pointed to the father and whispered, "Weird. That guy tucked his shirt into his underwear!"

Of course. Only someone who is short-sighted enough to push people around and demand special treatment on a flight during the busiest season of the year would give easy access to a hemroidal wedgy.