Sick on a Plane

Rob was about to get on a flight to head back home from his business trip. He was a very successful business man, and he knew it. 

Though he seemed like a man with zero insecurities, Rob’s had an undying fear: getting sick on a plane. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to miss work, or get his wife sick, or he had some event to attend; he just had a fear of getting sick on a plane. Whether it be a head cold, nausea, motion sickness, it didn’t matter. 

Rob gets on the flight and tries to find his seat, C17. This was a spur-of-the-moment business trip, so first class was unavailable. Adding insult to injury, he had to sit in the middle aisle of the plane. Not only the middle aisle, but the middle seat of the middle aisle. As long as the people next to him aren’t fat he thought. Fat people are the worst according to Rob. All they do is consume, not produce. They’re what’s killing America. All the fat people.

Rob was relieved to see that both people sitting next to him were average-size people. When the plane started to taxi, the girl to the left of him started to cough. Heavily. Like you could tell it was one of those coughs that produces phlegm, and then you wonder if they’re just going to man up and swallow it or just leave it in their mouth for awhile until they can find a sink or something to spit it out in. Anyways, the cough was horrific. Since Rob was so worried about sitting in the middle of fat people, he completely forgot about his phobia of getting sick on a plane. There’s no turning back either, the plane had already started moving. 

The sick woman politely approached Rob, “Hi I’m Lynette,” as she held her hand out for a handshake. Rob gripped his fist, “Let’s fist bump,” learning every move from his idol Howie Mandel. “Oookaay,” Lynette said in an uncomfortable tone as she timidly gave Rob the fist bump.

Lynette: Are you headed home now?

Rob: (Annoyed) Yes

Lynette: I’m sorry if you can barely understand me. I just got came down with a head cold.

Rob: Well, as long as you don’t snee-

(Lynette sneezes and some of the snot mists in his face causing Rob to flinch)

Rob: (Breathing in) Aaaaand you did it. You definitely did. Oh my God.

Lynette: I’m so sorry.

Rob started to breath in the barf bag. Lynette was very confused as to what was going on. “How can I help?” Lynette asks Rob as her hand was on his back to offer support. “For starters, you can get your hand off my back, and you can stop breathing your sick air into my direction.”

One of the flight attendants moved Rob to the back since his attitude was becoming aggressive. He had a whole row to himself. At this point, Rob didn’t care where he sat as long as he didn’t get sick on this plane.

The plane landed, and Rob waited as the plane was making its way to the correct terminal. When the seat belt sign flashed off, Rob fought little children, old ladies, the handicapped, to be first in line to get off that plane. Rob got off the plane without any signs of sickness. Rob raced down to ground transportation to call a cab. As he was waiting for a cab, he sneezed. “At least I’m not on a plane,” Rob said with a smile.