Beware the Druken Dude

So I had a business trip recently out to Denver. Love Denver. Could picture myself living there...or at least owning a nice condo up in Summit County (dream large, right?!). Anyway, I had a connecting flight through Charlotte, NC. It was a Boeing 737 so the set up in coach is 3x3. And of course, I drew the middle seat (blech!) But there was hope because the aisle seat next to me was still empty as the stewardess...excuse me..."Flight Attendant" was going to close the cabin door. Well wouldn't you know some bozo comes stumbling in right about then and as all the passengers watch him work his way down the aisle, oblivious to the fact that the entire plane is waiting on HIM, he dumps his stuff in the seat next to, you guessed it, me.

Of course he doesn't just quietly take his seat, he has to struggle to arrange all his crud in the overhead storage bins which are obviously full. After a few minutes of futile struggle the stewar...Flight Attendant helps him find a place for his stuff. She then has to remind him to sit down so the plane can, you know, LEAVE! He sits, and then takes out his cell phone (mind you, the door to the plane is now closed at which point all electronic devices should be in the off position) and calls what I deduced was his girlfriend. He spews all sorts crap to her about how he can't wait to see her again...blah, blah, blah. All the while I'm wishing the Flight Attendant would come flick him in the ear and tell him to get off the freaking phone.

After the obligatory safety briefing which says nothing about how much I'm going to have to pay to get my midget-sized portion of stale trail mix, the guy starts chatting me up. "Dude, I almost missed the flight, do you believe that? Dude!" I feel the blood leave my head when I realize what's happening. I've got a chatty drunk sitting next to me! This is bad. Next to an angry drunk, the chatty drunk is the worst thing for a slightly anti-social person like myself to encounter in a small, assigned seat, extended confinement situation.

Right after take off he starts in, "Dude, what do you do?" "I'm a project manager" trying to keep my answers short and close-ended. "Dude, that's cool. I manage golf courses. Dude, you play golf?" "No." Please leave me alone, I thought to myself. "Dude, you ever heard of (fill in name of golf courses here)?" "No." "Dude, its sweet. I get paid to get people to build golf courses." Great. In the name of all that's holy and decent, shut UP! "Dude, what's up with that stewardess, she wouldn't let me buy any drinks yet. You believe that dude?" "Life's a jip." Where is the nearest emergency exit? I might need to fling myself through it before we get to Denver.

Since my close-ended answers weren't having the desired effect I switched strategies; I put on my headphones, turned up the volume and started making demonstrative jiving and grooving motions with my head and hands. Clearly, I'm into my music, i.e., leave me alone. Then I see him turn toward me and his mouth is moving...and moving...and moving. I keep grooving, eyes forward. Not responding. His mouth moves some more. I continue to groove feverishly. Eventually he stops.

When I grew tired of the music, I didn't want to let my defenses down, so then I feigned sleep. Eyes closed, head tilted, little bit of drool coming out of the corner of my mouth. Very convincing, right? "Dude, after I go to Denver I'm gonna meet my girlfriend in Vegas. You ever been to Vegas, dude?" "Are you talking to me?" "Oh, sorry dude, were you asleep?" Would it be considered self-defense at this point to slap this guy in the face with my laptop? "Dude, here's my card. Let me know if you ever want to build a golf course." "I'll cherish it always."

Mercifully, at this point the Flight Attendant comes by and he breaks into a 15 minute conversation / negotiation with her about how many drinks he can buy at once. So the lesson here is, beware the drunken dude!