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Kelly Van De Walle: I will run you over …

Ioften take a break from spreading my traditional educational messages in this space and turn it over to those people that we all know quite well. This week from the files of People You Love to Hate I have the pleasure to introduce That Guy That Gets Up And Tries To Get Off The Plane The Moment It Lands. This overeager …

Enough of that. They get the idea. I got things to do, capice? Things like Getting Off This Plane the Moment It Stops. So, how are you doing? Haha, I don’t care.

It’s hard to care when you’re so JACKED TO GET OFF THIS BIRD like I am. You know I’m a serious air traveler when I refer to planes as “birds.” What do I call birds? Troubadours. It’s just how I roll. Wait, shaddup you guys. Shh! Was that the “bing” signaling we can remove our seat belts? No? OK I guess I’ll just sit back down.

Haha, just kidding. My seat belt is already off. Has been since we touched down. My buttocks have the sensitivity of a venus flytrap. As soon as that first piece of rubber hits the asphalt, boom: it’s Go Time! Go Time! consists of mainly pounding a Red Bull and doing a lot of seat fidgeting. And, of course, standing up to see if the flight attendants have opened the doors. Standing up immediately gets you in the “ready” position. You don’t see HIGHLY TRAINED Olympic sprinters getting into the blocks a couple of seconds before the gun goes off, do you? Of course not.

I can’t believe you’re just sitting there like a patient human being. You’re wasting your time and, even worse, MY time, which is probably 40 gazillion times more valuable. But it’s better this way anyway, that way my path is clearer. Ya’ll are a bunch of low hurdles in this race nobody is aware we’re having but me.

As I place one hand on the underside of the overhead bins and the other on the headrest of my seat like I’m the “before” picture in a chiropractor ad I just have one question for you, seatmate, do you like the way my crotch just sort of dangles there in front of your face like a sleeping bat? Oh, sure, you can pretend you don’t see it and look down or straight ahead, but it can’t escape your peripheral vision. Bask in its glory. Yeah, you’re welcome.

Why do I need to get off so fast? Clearly, I’m very important.

SERIOUSLY. It’s been two minutes and six seconds since the wheels touched down and they haven’t opened the door yet; I know this because I’ve been timing on my iPhone. Yeah, they didn’t say I could turn it on yet but you should know by now I don’t play by the rules. I’m like the Martin Riggs of this flight. Everybody else is Joe Pesci.

It’s time to retrieve my annoyingly oversized bag I jammed into the overhead bin using some businessman’s briefcase as a hammer. Let me reach over you here. The bag needs to inspect your face a bit closer. Maybe he knows you.

Don’t worry, I’m making up for my uncomfortable reaching around and getting all up in your business by being very awkward and unsuccessful.

There. Got it! Whoops. Kinda dropped it there. I guess I couldn’t one-arm the 900-pound thing, which is weird because I hold down mattresses on top of my Trans Am all the time. Yeah, my bag is heavy. I have IMPORTANT DOCUMENTS in there.

Look, that kid’s gonna be alright. I’m pretty sure his head was misshapen anyway. Plus, concussions are good for you. They toughen you up; let you know life’s gonna be har–WHAT IS TAKING SO LONG?

I’m totally going to get off of this thing 30 seconds faster than anyone else in this row, you can count on that.

——–

Kelly Van De Walle can be reached at vandkel@hotmail.com or via airline seat trying to avoid crotch bats. Follow Kelly on Twitter @pancake_bunny.

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