I knew he was from Texas before he loudly told the plane filled with people that he was from Texas.
I have a thing for people watching in the airport. I can walk around an airport for HOURS just watching and observing and taking in the sights. The most interesting people scurry around and run onto airplanes. A weird thing happens when they get on those plans, though - they stop being interesting to me. I can stand at a gate surrounded by the BEST people watching of all time and it will instantly stop being fun if I have to join those people in a small space.
I really don't like sitting on planes. Can you tell?
Thus, I'm always either the last one on the plane or I screwed up that day because I'm supposed to be the last one on the plane. I would have been the last one on the plane that day except that my little buddy from Texas played the game better than I ever have.
He wasn't just waiting until the last possible second - he was busy telling anyone who would listen that he couldn't possibly be expected to sit with the peasants. Apparently my friend from Texas screwed up in making his reservation and had an Economy Class ticket and HOOOBOY was he sad about it. He was the sort of sad that leads to begging and pleading and such.
"I don't think you understand, ma'am. It's a really bad idea for me to be on this plane without a bottle of booze in my hand."
Huh. Weird thing - that argument didn't get him anywhere. I can't imagine why nobody took pity on his soul.
When my little friend was done begging every airline employee he could find, he started with the other passengers. Dude literally went from row to row trying to find someone who would be willing to switch seats with him. He even spent 10 minutes of his life trying to convince a mom who was flying with a 2 or 3-year old that he deserved to be in Business Class more than she did because babies can't take advantage of the free booze.
Really. That was his argument.
Sadly, nobody would switch. I say "sadly" because the stranger from Texas was supposed to be seated directly behind me.
Once in his rightful seat, he talked and he talked and he talked. He told everyone who wasn't listening about how he was from Texas, that he was headed to Qatar to work, and that he would happily part with $250 for the seat upgrade if only anyone would listen to his desperate pleas to get upgraded.
He didn't stop talking until the guy next to me spoke up. "Listen, man. At this point, I need a drink more than you do and it's because you won't stop talking."
That man is my hero.