I made up the title myself. Pretty catchy huh? As you would expect I met the most interesting people during the travel portion of my trip. Mr. Pittsburgh deserved a feature article of his own, but here are a couple others who deserve honorable mention: I would like to give a little fashion advice to the young Asian gentleman with the laptop computer who sat across from me at JFK Airport. Dude, you seriously do not have the abs to walk around all day in public wearing a skin tight Under Armor shirt. That is not a good look for you. You don’t have 6-pack abs. You have 12 pack abs. The Under Armor people would tear that shirt off your flabby back and throw your money back at you if they knew how you looked walking around in their gear. There was absolutely no chance that you were going to be asked to join a football game while waiting at JFK. Do some sit-ups and get back to me. Secondly, what the hell was up with those “glasses”? He was wearing glasses with no arms. They had these clamp like things that just held them to the side of his head. It looked like the glasses were actually horns growing right out of his temples. Again, not a good look. Next I’d like to give the “Guy on The Airplane Who You See Coming Down the Aisle and You Pray He Won’t Sit Next To You” Award to the fat armed, asthmatic who got on the plane last with a stand-by ticket and took the only free seat on the plane. That’s right, it was next to me. He comes huffing and wheezing down the aisle like Hurley in Lost and squeezes into the window seat next to me clutching his bag of medications. Then he fell asleep within seconds. I’m not so sure it was sleep as it may have been a light coma. He was briefly roused by the airline waiter who offered him a soda. Then he went back to snoring, loudly, until the waiter came back with his soda. Them Mr. Asthmatic immediately lapsed back into his coma clutching his open bottle of pop. I was able to drown out his snoring because I had the headphones to go with the tv that every seat on the plane had (thank you Jet Blue). The only problem was that as Mr. Astmatic got deeper into his coma his body relaxed, (I don’t know if his bowels let go, but it’s possible) and his big meat slab of an arm gradually oozed over onto my armrest and concealed the controls to my little television.
Self-proclaimed grand poobah of leisure and author of humorous suspense novels The Sneaker Tree & White Picket Prisons, the humor essay book Fifty Shades of Phil and the long running blog The Phil Factor. thephilfactor.com
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