On Sunday afternoon, my flight to Atlanta was delayed, in-ordinately. My connecting flight was lost by my late arrival, so Delta re-booked me on a later flight, and put me into first class, seat 1A. "Great!" I thought. And as I later sank into my 1A seat, at gate B5 in Atlanta, I smelled something vaguely familiar.
I've been to a horse farm. I've smelled horse manure in the past. In my 1A seat, with a bulkhead in front of me, an external fuselage frame to my left, and a large, obese man, reading his Kindle to my right. My nostrils filled with the stench of horse manure. Scent is one of the most powerful of human senses. Wired directly into the ancient reptilian brain. Far stronger than the other senses, from our primitive ancestry.
The passenger in in 1B, a "Mr Weisner" had apparently been eating oatmeal as if he is Wilfred Brimley's best friend, or if he's drank an entire keg of oatmeal stout. But the stench of horse manure, of an animal whose majority diet is oats. Before we took off, it wafted to my nostrils. After we took off, it wafted again. Then mid-flight, during the 22 minutes of flight to Greenville SC, again. Once we landed, he let loose his last flatulence. All of it, smelled of horse manure. Had I not been on a plane, in a semi-confined space, I would never have known, it was the fetid passenger next to me. Unmistakably horse manure.
Please, if you're going to fly, be cognizant of the senses of those around you.
1 year ago