I don't think I realized just how crazy some individuals could be until I met Mr. Stripsearch while on my return flight this weekend from Washington through Vegas (name will be self-explanatory in a bit).

So I board the aircraft and take my seat, and a young (and rather attractive) guy sits in the seat next to me. Mr. Stripsearch boards the plane..... and proceeds to sit in the first seat available inside. He is a middle-aged man with long grey curly hair. He sits there for a second, looks at his ticket, leaps up, and moves about three rows further in and then sits down again. Another few seconds goes by and he looks at his ticket AGAIN, jumps up, makes a beeline for the seats in front of Cutie Pie and I, giggles, and DIVES into his seat.

Yes, that's right... GIGGLES.

He jumps into the seat so hard, that the seat back slams back and hits Cutie Pie in the knees. He then sits still for about two seconds, and then tilts to the left and lets rip the loudest fart I think I've ever heard. Believe me, I've heard some loud ones. My stepfather is from Texas. No shame. Then he flips his heap of nappy unwashed hair over the top of his seat, and I think I saw a hair drift down onto the pages of Cutie's book. Cutie and I look at each other and raise an eyebrow. It's going to be a long flight.... and it's only 8pm....

As the stewardess comes by for the final takeoff preparations, Mr. Stripsearch grabs her attention and announces in a very loud voice that it is his very first time on an airplane and he's never been so excited. Stewardess Lady gives him that look of, "that's nice, honey, now stop humping my leg." The plane powers up for takeoff and Mr. Stripsearch is now banging his back against the seat in his excitement, and leaning way over across his other empty seat to look out the window. "Whoooo-eeeee this is fun already!"

Cutie Pie and I take this cue to put our heads back and try to get some sleep. Fat chance. Mr. Stripsearch is bouncing all over the place and slamming the seats against our knees. Then he starts striking up some loud conversation with the gentleman across the aisle, who has the look in his eyes of something akin to a deer stuck in headlights and nowhere to run. Nope, sorry buddy. You're belted in and subject to stranger--talkathon-torture. And I'm not! ne-ner ne-ner...

Mr. Stripsearch turns out to be one of those individuals who likes to make loud exclamations while talking, and about every other word is the word, "fuck"... which doesn't seem to make the mom with three toddlers very happy. "EARMUFFS!!!" And I thought *I* swore like a sailor! He's still slamming back and forth against the seat everytime he bursts out in a hearty gallumphish laugh (at his own jokes). He's laughing so hard, that Cutie and I can feel them. Literally. In our knees. *SLAM* there he goes again.

The conversation takes a turn for the worse when Cutie and I are jolted awake by the words, "I've been stripsearched fifteen times during my prison days. Man, lemme tell ya, it gets fuckin' easier every single time they spread those cheeks and go in for the kill!" Cutie looks at me with terror and I make a quick nosedive for my underseat carryon and begin digging for my earplugs. Cutie puts out his hand in desperation for a pair.

A few minutes later we discover that even my 32 decibel earplugs can't block this guy's sound. Dammit.

The stewardess comes by with drinks. By this time, Mr. Stripsearch has moved on to other topics, such as "When "They" come I will be ready and waiting with my shotgun," "This plane is like a giant bus with wings," and "Oh CHRIST what the FUCK did I eat? *FART*"

I can only guess that "They" are either transient alien beings, the government, prison officials, or all three.

And then, when things finally seemed to calm down.... I don't know what the hell happened... either he found something REALLY funny or another gastronomic fart propelled him back hard into his seat, because the next thing I know the seat has slammed back so violently that it collapses the tray and crushes Cutie's drink, spilling cranberry juice all down his leg. Stewardess! Napkins requested in aisle 18!!! Did Mr. Stripsearch apologize? Hell no, he didn't even notice.

Did I use this opportunity to remove cranberry juice off Cutie's leg? You betcha.

Finally, we make our descent into Vegas, which looks rather pretty at night with all the bright lights and awesome looking buildings. The plane lands, and for some reason the plane is stuck at the gate with everyone standing up, but the door isn't opening to let us out. So we're waiting, and Mr. Stripsearch is getting antsy. He's getting up. He's sitting down. He's standing up halfway, and falling back into his seat again. He's grunting, and getting up, only to sit right back down again. He cranes his neck and starts muttering about it taking forever and a day. "We're not getting any younger here!" Nope, we're getting older, glad you figured that one out at an early age, buddy. Then he starts shouting. "Can we PLEASE see some MOVEMENT or something?!?!" People are getting nervous with the crazy old dude yellling on a plane.... great. I get to witness a stampede on an airplane..... Thankfully, a few minutes later, the gate opens and everyone rushes off.

All I can say is thank GOD "El Pollo Loco" wasn't on my flight to San Diego.