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found this entertaining little article over at RX.
Flying At 300 Pounds
Created on Thursday, 29 November 2012 00:07
Written By Ron Partlow
It’s all my own fault, I know. I have nobody to blame but myself. I’m the one who decided to spend 20 years lifting heavy slag and stuffing myself with copious amounts of steak and potatoes to get to 300 pounds. So when I fly, I totally understand that I am the guy nobody wants to sit beside.
As I walk through the airport, I get the usual looks that a 300 pound bodybuilder gets, and I just ignore most of what is going on around me and keep my ear buds in. My travel soundtrack always makes my trips tolerable. However, as I arrive at my gate, and I choose a place to sit and put my cooler down, I see that the others around me are thinking “That guy’s on MY flight”, and I know they are hoping they don’t get stuck sitting beside me.
I always wait for most of the others to board first. It’s just easier since I always have an aisle seat, so I tend to board with the final group of stragglers. As I walk onto the plane, I can see every person with an empty seat beside them looking at me with hope in their eyes. As I get closer to them I can see them doing the math on me, versus whoever is boarding behind me. They know they are getting stuck with one of us. If I pass them, I can sometimes see the relief in their faces. It’s the exact opposite when I stop and take my seat.
Three feet wide at the shoulders. Six feet tall. My body radiating enough heat to make YOU sweat. Big elbows and knees sticking out all over the place, which you will just LOVE while I eat my meal beside you out of a giant glass tupperware dish full of chicken, rice, and veg (which I had heated up at one of the food court stops before boarding, so it’s steaming too). Hope you think it smells good because I’m a slow eater.
My hips fit in the seat fine, but the rest of me just explodes out of my “space” in all directions. Gotta have that aisle seat to stick my leg out so my knee doesn’t ache. After this many years of training, asking for an aisle seat on the right side of the plane, is just travel planning 101. My other knee might push into your space if my bottles of water and Diet Coke take up too much of the knee room when I stick them in the back of the seat ahead of me.
The arm rest is mine too. Not because I’m a jerk and I’m going to take it, but because it’s practically impossible to not have my elbows on both of my arm rests. Sorry for changing your channel 20 times while I slept, digging my elbow into your controls.
To prevent me from getting even hotter and making life miserable for both of us, it’s probably in your best interest to let me have your little air vent up above us. You know the little adjustable one. Ya, I’ll just point all three of them towards my head and torso, thank you very much. Trust me.
Now, of course there are passengers less desirable than myself to get stuck sitting beside, like the ones who are actually fatter than I am big. More often than not there are a few of them, especially when flying within the US. I used to almost always be the biggest guy on the plane, but rising obesity rates have really helped me out there.
Really tall guys, like 6’4” and up, they aren’t too popular. I was on a plane with an entire basketball team once. A real US College team. I wound up sitting with a dude who was 6”10”. I felt like I fit really well compared to him. He was terrible to sit with. About 30 minutes into the flight, a flight attendant actually moved some people and I wound up with a really petite young woman beside me, and he got to sit in an aisle seat across the way.
Obviously, anyone really sweaty (bad hygiene sweaty, not sexy hot yoga sweaty), smelly, or crazy looking is going to be on the list too. Sometimes I get lucky and there are so many undesirables that I actually start to look pretty good as a seat mate. Flights out of cities like LA and Vegas are sometimes like that.
One thing is for sure, I always fly clean. Showered and smelling as pleasant as possible. I’ve encountered some very inconsiderate travelers in that regard. I sat with a guy once from Vegas to LA that smelled like vomit and rum. On the flight home from the 2010 North Americans, I sat beside a guy who was at least 6’6”, 330 pounds of fat, dressed in a sweater with a shirt and tie underneath, and he smelled of B.O. so fucking bad I swear it was a mental endurance test to even sit beside him for takeoff. The flight attendant even came by soon after we took our seats, and gave me a look of sympathy and mouthed the word “sorry”.
As soon as we got in the air and leveled out, I stood up and went to the back to stand by the bathroom for the rest of the flight. I was horrified to realize that being pressed against the fat smelly guy soaked the shoulder of my shirt. It was gross, and he smelled terrible. My sympathetic flight attendant even let me sit in her seat for some of the trip.
Of course, no article on flying at 300lbs would be complete without addressing the one thing so many people ask me about. “Ron, can you take a dump on a plane?” Well, technically yes I can, if I NEED to. I have done what I’ve had to do many times, however, part of my travel ritual is to try to make sure that is avoided.
I remember one time I was in Calgary waiting to catch a flight to Montreal. I had an RCMP undercover officer show me his badge and ask me to step to the side with him. He started asking me where I was coming from, and where I was going. Immediately, the freedom loving, anti-authority part of me shut him down. I told him that since I had done nothing wrong and was not being detained, I was going to refuse all further questions, and did not consent to any searches. He immediately knew he had to let me walk. I spent the next few hours feeling singled out and angry. However, it did dawn on me that I was pacing around a lot while waiting at the gate. I also sat down in three different chairs, and kept getting up and moving due to annoying kids, or smelly people. Also, I made three trips into the bathroom.
Every guy knows the deal....you cruise into a public bathroom and you have that little conversation with yourself. “Should I try to shit here? There’s even a big clean handicap stall! Maybe I should wait and just do it on the plane when I’m ready. If I try now it might be disappointing and I’ll have to go later anyways. Maybe I should come back in ten minutes. I’ll go eat half a meal and drink some water, then come back before I board.”
I could see how I appeared suspicious to an undercover officer....however, I was just really hoping to take a good shit before boarding the plane!
Travel safe everyone......
Ron
Flying At 300 Pounds
Created on Thursday, 29 November 2012 00:07
Written By Ron Partlow
It’s all my own fault, I know. I have nobody to blame but myself. I’m the one who decided to spend 20 years lifting heavy slag and stuffing myself with copious amounts of steak and potatoes to get to 300 pounds. So when I fly, I totally understand that I am the guy nobody wants to sit beside.
As I walk through the airport, I get the usual looks that a 300 pound bodybuilder gets, and I just ignore most of what is going on around me and keep my ear buds in. My travel soundtrack always makes my trips tolerable. However, as I arrive at my gate, and I choose a place to sit and put my cooler down, I see that the others around me are thinking “That guy’s on MY flight”, and I know they are hoping they don’t get stuck sitting beside me.
I always wait for most of the others to board first. It’s just easier since I always have an aisle seat, so I tend to board with the final group of stragglers. As I walk onto the plane, I can see every person with an empty seat beside them looking at me with hope in their eyes. As I get closer to them I can see them doing the math on me, versus whoever is boarding behind me. They know they are getting stuck with one of us. If I pass them, I can sometimes see the relief in their faces. It’s the exact opposite when I stop and take my seat.
Three feet wide at the shoulders. Six feet tall. My body radiating enough heat to make YOU sweat. Big elbows and knees sticking out all over the place, which you will just LOVE while I eat my meal beside you out of a giant glass tupperware dish full of chicken, rice, and veg (which I had heated up at one of the food court stops before boarding, so it’s steaming too). Hope you think it smells good because I’m a slow eater.
My hips fit in the seat fine, but the rest of me just explodes out of my “space” in all directions. Gotta have that aisle seat to stick my leg out so my knee doesn’t ache. After this many years of training, asking for an aisle seat on the right side of the plane, is just travel planning 101. My other knee might push into your space if my bottles of water and Diet Coke take up too much of the knee room when I stick them in the back of the seat ahead of me.
The arm rest is mine too. Not because I’m a jerk and I’m going to take it, but because it’s practically impossible to not have my elbows on both of my arm rests. Sorry for changing your channel 20 times while I slept, digging my elbow into your controls.
To prevent me from getting even hotter and making life miserable for both of us, it’s probably in your best interest to let me have your little air vent up above us. You know the little adjustable one. Ya, I’ll just point all three of them towards my head and torso, thank you very much. Trust me.
Now, of course there are passengers less desirable than myself to get stuck sitting beside, like the ones who are actually fatter than I am big. More often than not there are a few of them, especially when flying within the US. I used to almost always be the biggest guy on the plane, but rising obesity rates have really helped me out there.
Really tall guys, like 6’4” and up, they aren’t too popular. I was on a plane with an entire basketball team once. A real US College team. I wound up sitting with a dude who was 6”10”. I felt like I fit really well compared to him. He was terrible to sit with. About 30 minutes into the flight, a flight attendant actually moved some people and I wound up with a really petite young woman beside me, and he got to sit in an aisle seat across the way.
Obviously, anyone really sweaty (bad hygiene sweaty, not sexy hot yoga sweaty), smelly, or crazy looking is going to be on the list too. Sometimes I get lucky and there are so many undesirables that I actually start to look pretty good as a seat mate. Flights out of cities like LA and Vegas are sometimes like that.
One thing is for sure, I always fly clean. Showered and smelling as pleasant as possible. I’ve encountered some very inconsiderate travelers in that regard. I sat with a guy once from Vegas to LA that smelled like vomit and rum. On the flight home from the 2010 North Americans, I sat beside a guy who was at least 6’6”, 330 pounds of fat, dressed in a sweater with a shirt and tie underneath, and he smelled of B.O. so fucking bad I swear it was a mental endurance test to even sit beside him for takeoff. The flight attendant even came by soon after we took our seats, and gave me a look of sympathy and mouthed the word “sorry”.
As soon as we got in the air and leveled out, I stood up and went to the back to stand by the bathroom for the rest of the flight. I was horrified to realize that being pressed against the fat smelly guy soaked the shoulder of my shirt. It was gross, and he smelled terrible. My sympathetic flight attendant even let me sit in her seat for some of the trip.
Of course, no article on flying at 300lbs would be complete without addressing the one thing so many people ask me about. “Ron, can you take a dump on a plane?” Well, technically yes I can, if I NEED to. I have done what I’ve had to do many times, however, part of my travel ritual is to try to make sure that is avoided.
I remember one time I was in Calgary waiting to catch a flight to Montreal. I had an RCMP undercover officer show me his badge and ask me to step to the side with him. He started asking me where I was coming from, and where I was going. Immediately, the freedom loving, anti-authority part of me shut him down. I told him that since I had done nothing wrong and was not being detained, I was going to refuse all further questions, and did not consent to any searches. He immediately knew he had to let me walk. I spent the next few hours feeling singled out and angry. However, it did dawn on me that I was pacing around a lot while waiting at the gate. I also sat down in three different chairs, and kept getting up and moving due to annoying kids, or smelly people. Also, I made three trips into the bathroom.
Every guy knows the deal....you cruise into a public bathroom and you have that little conversation with yourself. “Should I try to shit here? There’s even a big clean handicap stall! Maybe I should wait and just do it on the plane when I’m ready. If I try now it might be disappointing and I’ll have to go later anyways. Maybe I should come back in ten minutes. I’ll go eat half a meal and drink some water, then come back before I board.”
I could see how I appeared suspicious to an undercover officer....however, I was just really hoping to take a good shit before boarding the plane!
Travel safe everyone......
Ron
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