The Smell

So I was on my home from Seattle last night and the brief flight was filled with an unpleasant odor.

I settled in my seat by the window and started to read my novel. Minutes passed and I noticed that I was inhaling a scent that was definitely not refreshing. It wasn't freesia or the peel of a citrusy orange. Nor was it cologne or perfume. I knew what it was instantly without glancing over to confirm my suspicion. It was funky feet.

I cocked my head to the side and slightly turned to pretend I was glancing out my window into the darkness of the sky. The window of course had a reflection due to the blackness outside and the dim of the light inside. I then saw the culprit; the bare foot slipped inside of a sandal perched atop the gentleman's other leg. I made a hissing sound.

Please! No! I thought to myself. I faced the other way and hunched over a little leaning to my left side. Luckily, the flight wasn't full and there wasn't an occupant in the middle seat. Of course I knew I couldn't keep the current position I put myself in for the duration of the nearly two hour flight.

I'd seen that the bare sandled foot transitioned to the floor but that did not help. At all. I'd breathe into my scarf for support but that started to get suffocating.

I could have moved but the lights were dimmed and the cabin crew kept walking up and down the aisle taking drink orders and then passing out Ritz crackers and then coming down with the beverage cart. I was trapped. Enduring the smell and causing my face to crease and frown was the option I was left with.

I eyed the smelly feet guy as we made our way through the terminal. I shook my head.

Lesson to be learned kids; make sure you wash your feet before having it exposed to others in somewhat enclosed spaces.