Plane-Boner

2:07 p.m.

I'm back from Toronto (did I mention the trip would be short?), with stories to tell of our northern neighbors. But first, let's focus on my flight(s).

I both love and hate flying, usually alternating depending on what's happening. On the one hand, I get there a lot quicker. But on the other hand, I managed to have screaming kids that wouldn't shut up seated in my general area on every single one of my flights. Every...one.

Also, there's that whole ear popping thing. My body doesn't cooperate much with that. It might be because I fly so seldom, but every time I'm coming back down my ears just don't pop (and no, it's not sinuses - I was free and clear). You have no idea how much that actually hurts. It's like this insane pressure in your head that gives you the mother of all migraines, and you can't hear a damn thing because for some reason your ears seem to have migrated out onto the wings of the plane. Or at least that's what it sounds like. My ears eventually do pop - like an hour after landing - and it's like I finally came up from under the water. Much needed relief all around.

But then again, on the way up, I feel like a little kid, because I'm all leaning up in my seat to look out the window as we leave the ground and break that first set of clouds. The first set of clouds is always the best - just beautiful. The second set of clouds is less impressive, but the sky is amazing - it gets to be such a dark shade of blue as to almost be navy.

However, before you get on the plane you have to deal with security. Canadian security is tight. They hit me with the whole nine yards - searchings, scannings - I had to take off my belt, my shoes, my socks - they peered in my mouth like I was some kind of horse - they did everything short of probe me, but I'm pretty sure most of them were thinking about doing that one, too. Either that or the lady searching me was hot for my buttocks. She focused a lot of time back there with her scanning device. "Hey, lady," I wanted to say. "I'm not going to shit iron ore. Give it up."

Of course, where Security-Lady failed to get a peek at some goods, a complete stranger won the grand prize. A complete hot girl stranger. But rather than make me feel all cozy inside, it's just an embarrassing story. Which I will now procede to tell in great detail.

Okay, so I'm on the flight back to Tyler. From Dallas to Tyler we fly in little wussy Saab airplanes. For those of you that don't know what a Saab is, think of a Super-80 Jet - a pretty standard mode of aerial transportation - and shrink it to where it can seat like 40 people, and then put two propellers on it instead of jets. The Dallas/Fort Worth airport is so ashamed of its Saab planes that to get to the little-propeller-plane part of the airport you have to actually take a shuttle, because they stashed it off to the back somewhere. In Tyler, we built a multi-million dollar state-of-the-art airport to accomodate them, which is prominently displayed off of our main loop.

Because we're morons.

The problem with Saab planes is that they are the most turbulent sons-of-bitches in the entire sky. From the moment it takes off to the moment it lands you keep waiting for the captain to ask you to grab your flotation devices and save your ass, because it feels like the wings are about to get torn off every other second.

Now, here's a bizarre phenomenon - I don't know if this is true for all guys or just me (probably just me) - excessive turbulence? Boner.

Don't ask me why, but for some reason all that turbulence just makes me pop one. Christ, had it for the whole trip, too, and I wasn't even thinking sexy thoughts. Well, sort of. Mostly I was thinking, "Damn, I got a plane-boner! This is crazy!" So, if you consider that sexy, then this thirty minute plane ride was the sexiest one I've ever been on since the last time I flew on a Saab.

This is only part of the story - before take-off I had been chatting it up with a very nice (and exceedingly hot) girl who said she was visiting her aunt in Tyler. Yeah, I was actually talking to a girl I'd never met before - I'd been talking to every hot girl I met in Canada so I was kind of riding on a high of conversation ability.

We had been flirting for a bit, too, innocently enough, and I was actually seriously considering asking her if there was a way to get ahold of her during her time in my city. We had to board before I got the chance, and we weren't seated close to each other on the plane, so I had made up my mind to catch her when we landed.

I hit the bathroom real fast before boarding, got on, bumpy plane ride, uber-turbulence-boner-supreme, and then landing.

I ran to catch up to her in the airport and found her with her aunt, who had come to pick her up - I said hello to both of them, but before I got the chance to get her aside to ask about a phone number her aunt made this astonished face and struggled to say something discretely to me - her niece (named Carol, I should mention), caught the, uh, meat of what was going on before I did, and started laughing.

Yeah, I didn't zip quite as well as I thought I did after the bathroom. Captain Plane-Boner was struggling to make an appearance, live, in person, masked only by my bulgimus Fruit of the Looms. Holy crap, that was mortifying.

Lee: *zziiipp!*
Carol's Aunt: *one eyebrow raised.*
Carol: *laughing* I think you really like Tyler.
Lee: I....am so sorry. It was...no, never mind. I, um...
Carol's Aunt: We need to go, I'm sorry.
Carol and Aunt: *vanish*
Lee: I....no.....

And thus ended my hot streak with talking to the ladies. For I have tasted bitter defeat at being smooth and I shall now never attempt it again. My future girl will just have to find me.

Which should be pretty fucking easy with my dick hanging out for the world to see.

Dammit!

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