We all had that antsy feeling, wondering what the heck was taking so long to get off the plane. But there’s rules of the road (air?), and as I stepped into the aisle—after dutifully waiting my turn for the rows ahead of me to exit—you blatantly ignored them. You blitzed ahead and bumped into me with a wild look in your eye. I asked if you had somewhere to be and you swiped at my arm before replying: “Yeah, I do. And you don’t have to been a (bleeping) (bleephole) about it.” I played it cool, not at all interested in starring in one of those viral airplane fights, and told you I was simply asking a question. You responded by shouting that you were going to a funeral. Ugh. I decided to cut you some slack and said nothing the rest of the way as we trudged slowly off the plane.
I Saw You is an anonymous “man on the street” column. Email your rants and raves about co-workers or any badly behaving citizens to [email protected], or send to 380 S. First St, San Jose, 95113. Submissions should stick to about 100 words.
