Why am I always the lucky one? Why?
I don't cause any trouble. I mind my own business. I fasten my seat belt when the light is illuminated. I put all of my liquids, gels and/or aerosols in a 1 quart, sealable plastic bag.
Why then do I ALWAYS get seated next to a person who is far too large to fit in a single seat on the plane?!?!?!
Today's offender wasn't a fat person, he was just too tall/broad-shouldered for the seats in the commuter plane I was on. He was a late-middle-aged guy, probably early 50's, and my gaydar sounded the alarm the instant he stepped onto the plane. I think that God hated me today. I was already on the plane, in my seat, listening to a little Radiohead and casually thinking, sigh... I hope some cute boy gets the seat next to me today...
MISTAKE! BIG MISTAKE!
So, instead of granting my winsome desire of sitting next to some eye candy, God plants me next to a ginormous, old gay guy. It was depressing.
I don't ever want to be an old gay guy. But, that's probably an ungrantable wish.