But the thought of letting those smelly socks touch my jacket was worse.
The passenger beside me, an older gentleman with a crossword puzzle, glanced over.
“Everything all right?”
“Someone’s drying his socks behind my head.”
He looked up.
Saw them.
Then quietly returned to his crossword.
I couldn’t blame him.
There wasn’t a clue in that puzzle that could explain this situation.
A little later, the flight attendant passed down the aisle.
I almost called her over.
But Captain Compost was asleep, and I was tired of having to ask someone else to enforce basic manners.
I told myself I’d wait another minute.
Then the snack cart appeared.
“Something to drink?” the attendant asked.
“Sparkling water, please.”
“Anything else?”
I glanced at the cart.
Packets of pretzels.
Cookies.
Small stacks of paper napkins.
And suddenly I had an idea.
“Actually, could I have two extra napkins?”
