Shit on a Plane

Okay, this was right after sometime when airplanes started charging for two seats when a person’s dimension and weight exceeded certain criteria, and after 2001, when a brown person in an airplane caused some people to panic.

I boarded a plane, and despite the tickets being bought and checked in at the same time, my friend sat all the way in the front, and I sat all the way in the back by the toilet, even though there were plenty of vacant seats all around. There sat another man across the aisle, who occupied no less than two seats. No big deal, eh? Well, it just happened another person with similar dimension walks by and goes in the toilet. As he comes out of the toilet, my big fat neighbor decides to go as well. This got interesting when a really skinny person walked in the toilet – he bolted out of there with a pale face, and proceeded to the nearest flight attendant.

Now, while I’m thinking, thank God I have a bad cold and stuffy nose where I can’t smell anything. The flight attendant scurries to the toilet, takes a peek, and hightailed to the front. Now I got a little worried, and started to wonder what surprise did my fat friends leave in that tiny space. The voice over the PA system broke my chain of thought as it announced that the toilet in the back is out of commission.

My curiosity arose, and as I lacked the sense of smell, I couldn’t help but wonder: What was it that came out of the fat man’s ass hole? Or was it that the metal bowl couldn’t sustain the weight? Is it bigger than the chute in the toilet bowl? Is it brown or yellowish? Can some one’s poopie chute be bigger than an industrial strength, universal size toilet chute?

I stared with great curiosity at the last fat soul to use the toilet as he so nonchalantly flipped the pages of a magazine. I couldn’t take it any more! So I asked the flight attendant what had happened. She gave me a great big smile and replied, “Oh, it overflowed!” My suspicions were correct! What ever came out of the two fat man’s ass was bigger than the one-size-fits-all poopie chute of an airplane’s toilet! “Bing!” The voice of the Captain broke my chain of thoughts. He informed us of some upcoming rough weather and turbulence.

Then it hit me! I was sitting right next to the toilet that overflowed, and in my mind, I pictured two gigantic log like pieces of shit that resisted the immense suction of an airplanes toilet, blocking the blue liquid that overflowed. In paralyzing horror, I asked the flight attendant if I could be moved to avoid any potential contact with the deadly shit soaked blue liquid. Once again, with a great big smile, she said, “Let me see!”

She came back, and informed me how sorry she is for not being able to move me, but, with a great big smile, gave me a whole bunch of peanuts to compensate. I spend the rest of the flight in horror, staring at the peanuts, and the empty seats far, far away from the toilet. We landed safely, without having to see anything come out of that toilet.

Not too long ago, I went to watch the movie Snakes on a Plane. My date was terrified as she is afraid of snakes. We both came out of there with a pale face – her from snakes, mine from the memories of the horror of large constricting shit on a plane. Nothing had me prepared for what I saw next. There stood a great big fat man a few feet from me, who resembled the dimensions of my fat neighbor in that airplane. He was eating Planter’s peanuts standing by the toilet. Déjà vu? Or is it a movement to clog all toilets with peanut infused shit. Did the flight attendant give me those peanuts because the shit on the plane was nutty? The world may never know.

Now when I check in at an airport and someone asks me with a great big smile, “Window or Aisle?” – I reply, “As far away from the toilet as possible.” All the while, overpowered by the horror of large shit, I realized I no longer scan for the scary brown people, I scan for fat people with peanuts in their hand.

Fat Man Slap Dance His body is his instrument.

Starting a Blog

A lot of my friends told me, that I should start a blog. To be honest, I never thought I would. Lo and behold, here I am. It is only fair that I mention the people who actually inspired me to do this. Before I do that, just a little background on how I ended up on this thing:

Like everyone else, I’ve been through the ups and downs of life, and it has been a crazy journey. May be I perceive things differently than most people, and perhaps I find humor where most people don’t – but I’ve been told that when I talk about my experiences, they are interesting. At the same time, I’ve been told that I am a good listener. The listening part – I don’t doubt, as more often I end up being the shoulder to cry on. Sometimes, it gets to be too much. Seriously, if I got paid for listening to people, I would have a hefty amount in my bank.

I love my friends, and I have no problem spending as much time it takes for me to be there for them. But it’s the strange encounters I sometimes have that test my patience. Freshmen year, I was in the break room having lunch at work. A new hire comes in, and sits at my table. After normal introduction, she suddenly says, “I hate putting a condom on a guy…” – I’m thinking, as much as you don’t like it, I am not getting in your pants without some rain gear. Well, what would you expect when you are full of testosterone, and a random girl just says that to you? Well, to my disappointment, she tells me about her strange relationship situation, and asks for my advice. I asked her, “You do realize I am not gay, and I have no experience in suiting up someone’s private part other than my little friend who is attached to my groin?” I guess everyone has their niche, I ended up providing her my two cents, and apparently it worked for her. Hence begin my role as a ‘Listener of all things odd’ in strange places, from strange people.

Like any youngster, my little friend had more control over my life than I, but eventually I’ve become really picky, and turns out, my little brain is not the only thing that requires a stimuli! Perhaps its from years of listening to people’s deep, dark secrets – that I’ve become this way, or perhaps I just have a really caring side that produces enough estrogen that makes my big brain crave some intellectualism. Who knows? Turns out, when you become an attentive listener, more often than none, you are the shoulder to cry on, and not the guy to bang the shit out of someone. Or maybe it’s the beer belly that has started to form – result of being fed from a tub of ice cream as I listen to girls bitch about their relationships. Regardless, it seems that when I talk to people, I have a way of making them feel better. Like everything else, it comes with a price: sometimes I do all the listening, and then the girl I just met feels better and proceeds to screw someone else’s brains out.

So, I’ve been told that I should write down my ideas about relationship, my random observation of odd humor, and zillions of stories that others have found entertaining. Then again, I’m not a writer, so, what sounded really good from my mouth may not make any freaking sense when I write it. If you are reading this, and you actually enjoy my blog, you should thank two people:
JPK: What can I say; he went the distance, and sent me links, suggestions and even a name for my blog. Originally, it was to be called “Dr. Khaled Explains it All” – I decided to remove the Dr. and be just Khaled, as that is who I am.
Anne: I never realized you can relate to someone this way, as she puts it, we are “Personality Twins” – from freaky coincidences to how we do things! I am psyched, that our paths crossed!

If for any reason you think this is lame, just quit reading it. That just means I don’t write as good as I speak. But by all means, let me know what you think.