The Story of My Life in One Airplane Flight

 I got on the plane to return to New Jersey, already exhausted and fragile after barely recovering from a full-blown migraine that started at six AM. An injection of imitrex stopped the vomiting, and another dose taken with half a Coke at the airport got me through security and onto the plane. So let's
just say I didn't find it charming when a fellow passenger boarded the plane with a female who may have been his sister (my best guess) and practically fell into my lap. "Sorry, bro," he mumbled.

"Did you call me bro?" I laughed.

"Oh, sorry." He turned toward me as he tried to get into his seat across the aisle from me,and I got a full blast of the alcohol oozing from every pore of his body. Wow.

Maybe he'll just. Fall. Asleep.

"That's okay. I've been called worse."

But two minutes later, as the announcements were finishing up and the plane was taxiing toward the runway, the man's cell phone rang, and he fished it out of his pocket and loudly started telling whomever was on the end that it was too late for him to get off the plane, it was about to take off. Obviously, he was being taken somewhere to sober up, dry out, or something equally unpleasant.

I did not want the flight to be delayed because someone was ignoring the rules, so I whispered, "You're supposed to turn that off."

Quickly his sister/friend/chaperon grabbed it from him and turned it off.

Time passed. We got our drinks, and blessedly, they weren't selling alcohol on the short flight from Lexington to Detroit. 

At one point, the man turned to me, tapped me on the arm (you never tap me on the arm, ever!)  and said, "If you would just relax, everything would be fine."

"Really?"

IF I WOULD JUST RELAX EVERYTHING WOULD BE FINE.

It is such a miracle that I did not stand up and go Bridesmaids on him right then and there. He SO picked the wrong person to say that to. No, Mr. Reeking of Alcohol, everything will NOT be fine if I relax. People like YOU will make sure it's never fine. People like Y-O-U have been ruining my day since 1955; in fact, very likely even earlier than that. Your mistakes, your messy lives, your sad excuses, your wasted miserable days, and your whole exhausting routine have made 101% certain that things are FAR FROM FINE. EVER. Thank you very much.

But I didn't do that.

I looked at Mr. Reeking of Alcohol, and his one eye was completely bloodshot, and I felt so much sadness and compassion for him.  I knew that like some people very close to me he was trapped in a place he could not get out of and didn't need my scorn and anger.

So when he suggested I relax, instead of launching into aforementioned rant, I smiled at him.

"I'm trying, bro." I said.