I don’t know who you get to sit next to on the airplane, but, I’d say my average unknown female flying companion tips the scales somewhere between Anthony Anderson and Louie Anderson, and, at some point, like a mollusk, their gastric organ will distend from their corpus central and begin rolling over my body in some type of pre-digestive dance. This is when I start throwing honey roasted peanuts to placate the beast. It’s like the Mile High Club meets The Donner Party. It’s horrific.
Then, there’s some lucky bastard who will get to share six confined hours with super model and Quantum of Solace actress, Olga Kurylenko, trapped at 35,000 ft. Sure, you need to come up with some great stories about how much you love Bugatti motorcycles, and why an injury dashed your dreams of college sports greatness. But so much preferable to battling hungry clam belly with tiny peanuts. Trust. And, enjoy.