Underpants On The Outside

Hi there,

I owe you an apology.  We haven’t known each other long – about three hours now.  In three more hours or so we’ll be touching down in San Francisco.  Are you from San Fran?  I’m guessing you are – you don’t seem to be wearing very much makeup.

Sorry, I’m rambling.  This is just a bit awkward for me, but… here goes.

I’m sorry that I smell so badly.  I don’t know what happened.  I put on deodorant this morning, but I get a little nervous when I fly.  I didn’t realize how bad things were, but when I reached over to get my drink from the stewardess – oops, flight attendant – I couldn’t help but catch a whiff of myself.  I am really glad I’m not sitting directly to my left!  Unfortunately, you are, and for that I am sorry.

Have I smelled this bad the whole time? I can’t help but think of all the things I’ve ordered so far from the stewarde-oops, there I go again.  (I just thought of a funny name for them: “altitude wenches.”  Oh c’mon, that’s funny.  Don’t get your flannel panties in a bunch.)  There was the water, then the tea, then that cheese platter, then the second round of tea.  Then she’s gotta come around again afterwards to pick up the trash, and then it’s all, second verse, same as the first.

I should also apologize for having to get up to go to the bathroom so much.  Was that The Time Traveler’s Wife you were watching?  It looked intense.  Why was Rachel MacAdams crying?  In retrospect, it probably wasn’t the best time for me to get up, but it’s all this tea, y’know?  Speaking of which, I’m going to need you to wake up now…

Okay, I’m back now.  I was debating whether to mention this, but I thought about it a bunch in the bathroom and I decided I should come clean.  (Sorry I kept you waiting – I didn’t realize you had followed me.)  It should come as no surprise by now that yes, it’s me who’s been farting.  Did you know people can become lactose intolerant in their later years? I’m starting to think that’s happening to me.  Side note: the cheese platter is surprisingly delicious for airplane food.

I hope you can forgive me.  Please understand: much like Eric Bana’s character in The Time Traveler’s Wife (or at least what I could gather without the sound) my body does things that I don’t understand, am unable to control, and have a negative impact on the women around me.  (But don’t get any ideas – I’m married!) I just hope my bodily issues don’t cause me to get shot by hunters.

Oh yeah: sorry for watching over your shoulder so much.  That really seemed to annoy you, though I don’t see what the big deal was.  Was that girl at the end his daughter?

- The Guy in 7F

P.S.  Please forward this to the girls in 6F and 8F.