Yesterday, I was deadheading (traveling as a passenger) from Newark to Houston on a 757. As hub-to-hub flights usually are, this one was booked to capacity. Since I was in uniform and on the manifest as a "deadheading" working crewmember, I was allowed to board with the actual, working crew. I took my seat at 20C (exit row, aisle) and prepared for the onslaught of "boarding".
Fascinating...
The longer I do this job, the more convinced I am that I will never HEAR or SEE "it all"!
Of all the frightening things I saw and heard, none was more so than this: I looked up from reading USA TODAY and was eyeball to business with an impressive set of male genitalia, unencumbered by foundation garment and only marginally masked from total nudity by a suggestion of "gym shorts". My eyes continued an upward arc hoping-against-hope that the owner's face would register something akin to embarrassment at having forgotten such a critical step in preparing for interaction with the traveling public. Alas, the face revealed only the vacant "I am an island unto myself" stare so common these days.
In fairness, I suppose that the marketing of one's penis & testicles is no more remarkable than the ubiquitous "boob show" that has become so commonplace. If I'd employed the camera on my iphone, I could have easily assembled a CATALOG of store-bought boobies on the same flight.
Is it possible that they were all drunk, or altered, or maybe there was a casting call for the next iteration of "Jersey Shore"? Sometimes I think that the movie "Invasion of the Body Snatchers" wasn't so much sci-fi as it was prophetic.
Pod people...
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