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Since I'm stuck here, and in honour of having just passed a million miles on United, here's my most memorable in-flight story
I was flying back from Brazil, and it was a couple of days after my birthday. I was in coach, but had an empty seat next to me.
Just after the doors close, a guy comes running up from the back of the plane and sits next to me. Dude *reeks* of booze.
He apologises and says something about usually being in business. I smile politely. He starts asking whether the booze smell is too much.
He tells me he's been drinking all day because his girlfriend dumped him. I express sympathy about that happening in Brazil.
He says it happened in the US. He's in Brazil because she's dating a Brazilian international soccer star who's taken her to meet his family.
I express condolences and say it must be tough for her to have moved on so quickly. He says it happened six months ago.
He's been in Brazil to try to win her back, but she wouldn't see her. At this point drink service arrives and he gets two whiskeys.
He immediately spills the first whiskey into my lap.
Conversation finally moves on, and he asks what I do. I tell him I work in security. Dear readers, this is an error.
"Oh, can you hack into someone's Facebook or WhatsApp account?"
I explain that there are circumstances where I possibly could but that no, I am not hacking into his ex's accounts for him
He offers quite a large sum of money. I decline. Thankfully, food arrives and he runs off and comes back with four beers.
(he's told the flight attendant that two are for me)
(they aren't)
I finally manage to disengage and start watching a film, then (mercifully) pass out. I'm woken by a punch to the face.
I wake up to discover that not only have I just been punched, the side of my face is covered in boozy saliva from having been spat at.
While I'm trying to figure out exactly what's going on, I get punched again. And then again.
Thankfully I'm sitting to his right and he's swinging with his left, so he's not connecting terribly well. He's staring at me, grinning.
We're well into "what the fuck" territory, especially because he doesn't actually seem to be *seeing* me.
Just as I'm about to become actually upset, he faces forward and passes out on his tray table. I'm in a window seat, now trapped.
At this point we're off the north coast of Brazil, so making a fuss seems like it'll probably be incredibly inconvenient for everyone.
So, I go back to sleep.
Morning, and my seatmate asks how I slept. "Funny story, actually"
He has no recollection at all, but believes me immediately, so sounds like probably not the first time?
Anyway, previous night I'd tried to convince him that maybe he should see a therapist to help him get over this girl.
I reiterate that this is a good plan, and this time he agrees. I get off the plane as fast as possible and never see him again.
Anyway, never tell anyone on planes that you work in security the end
