I realize this is ridiculously long but it was a long flight

Guess where I am. Never mind, I'll just tell you because you probably wouldn't guess. I'm back in the land of my birth, helping out while Mom has surgery. (Not helping with the surgery, naturally. Helping out with the people left at home.) I'll save you the trouble of calculating the last time I was here. It was only last month so yes, I am doing my part to keep the airline business flying high.

The first half of the trip had nothing out of the ordinary. I did have a small conundrum because my itinerary said no plane switch in Charlotte (the city of my layover), but I didn't know if that meant I wasn't to leave the plane, or that I was to get off and re-board at the same gate. It was all very confusing so I asked for help from no less than four different people. Christopher had told me to BE BOLD ABOUT GETTING INFORMATION so I thought asking four people was going above and beyond.  Two said I should stay on the plane and the other two said I could get off if I so desired. Turns out I so desired. I exited to eat a quick lunch then hurried back on the plane. I headed for seat 18A only to discover someone sitting in my seat. One thing worth knowing about me is that once I do something/sit somewhere/park somewhere/etc. I will do so in exactly the same manner for the foreseeable future. (Take my parking spot at Hobby Lobby for example. I park in the same place 99% of the time because it's where I parked the first time I went there. Feel free to call me slightly OCD.) I made a big show of pulling out and pretending to investigate my ticket then turned to the boy in seat 18A and man in 18C and said, "Um (I am so eloquent!), I think that's my seat." The man started waving his arms around and the boy said, "He's deaf."

That was an unexpected development.

I wasn't sure if they were both deaf or just the man, so I muttered that really, it wasn't the end of my world as I knew it if I had to give up my coveted window seat, the seat I had just sat in for two hours, and had to sit between two strangers.As I maneuvered myself and my bag in, the boy held up a tin and said, "Do you mind?" I barely saw what he held up and from the way he was holding the tin in his hand it looked just like the licorice mint tins that are sold at CVS. I couldn't care less whether he had a mint so naturally I said no. Turns out he was asking if I minded if he enjoyed a little chewing tobacco during the flight. Unexpected development #2. He popped a nice wad in his mouth than passed the tin over to his father, the deaf man.So there I was, sitting between two tobacco chewing (and spitting) men. It was just as lovely as it sounds.

As we took off, the son looked at me and made the following remark: "It was the Warner brothers who were the first to fly, right?" I believe it was the Wright brothers, but nice try. Around this time I decided to reveal that I have a passable knowledge of sign language. I spelled my name to the deaf man and he just about fell off his seat. He was so delighted that he processed to sign to me for the rest of the trip. I understood about half of what he signed and his hearing son translated the rest. It was a nice arrangement for a while. I could practice sign language and he had someone to visit with. Darrell told me he was on the way to his daughter's wedding and that while he had been married three times, he was now divorced. At least that's what I got from the signing. It looked like he broke the neck of one and cut off the head of the other, but I believe the general gist was they were no longer together. I considered asking if people ever call him Henry VIII, but after the Warner Brothers confusion I didn't want to push their knowledge of historical figures.

I don't think Darrell had flown since 1982 because he whacked my leg every time the plane moved in an unusual way. He would whack my leg every time he wanted to tell me that all we could see out the window were clouds. After he told me, he would swing his arm across my chest and whack his son David so he could see the clouds. David fell asleep partway through the flight which I found annoying. I don't think you should take up a window seat if you don't even plan on looking out the window. Some of us don't sleep on planes and we would appreciate the view. After almost two hours Darrell and I had discussed everything possible given my limited vocabulary. I could have asked, "Do you like bacon?" but I try not to bring up food all the time. I started reading the Sky Mall magazine but Darrell kept whacking my leg or reaching across me to whack David so I didn't get too far. Eventually I had it. It wasn't the fact that David was in my window seat, or the fact that our row had the overwhelming scent of chewing tobacco. It wasn't even that they kept spitting into their little cups (although that was annoying). It was the constant whacking and poking I received from a total stranger for 3 hours, 23 minutes. Whack. "Do you work?" Poke. "How many children do you want?" Whack David. "Do you see the clouds?" Whack "Does your husband smoke?" Poke. "Do you like fishing?" Whack. "Are you ok?" It took everything in me not to shout, "NO I'M NOT OK!! I REALIZE WE'RE PACKED IN HERE LIKE SARDINES BUT YOU'RE INVADING MY PERSONAL BUBBLE!" I just nodded. It was a whole lot easier than attempting to spell it all out one letter at a time.