Fatty engulfs plane seat I was boarding my flight, Delta so assigned seating, basically the Russian Roulette of don’t let a fatty sit next to me.  I have an aisle seat, so a better chance of not being fatinated (fat version of terminated) by a fat person next to me.  I will take a hit from the drink cart any day and twice on Sunday than sitting next to a fatty.  So, I put my crap away and sit in my seat, playing on my phone and glancing down the aisle as people come down with that look on their face of what seat am I and where the hell is my seat.  This is all very complex as it has numbers and letters and fats usually get their information from a menu.  Yea, lucky me a skinny and attractive (actually she is really hot) lady about my age says “hi” and that this is her row with a smile on her face.  Bummer, she goes to the widow seat.  I go back to playing on my phone and glancing down the aisle again with more anxiety now, as statistically there is a greater chance of getting a fatty stuck in the middle.  The golden standard is if there is no one in the middle, only if I could be so lucky.  I look up, what the hell, is there some kinda cosmic joke, I shit you not!!  This gigantic fat tub of lard, at least 400 plus pounds of pure jiggly fat, you know that fat that is all on the surface of the body, comes jiggling and squeezing down the aisles, sweating all over as he is having to work so hard pushing his way past all those seats.  Its boobs are enormous.  It looks at me and says that he is in the middle.  The cute girl in the window seat looks at me with this ‘what the fuck’ look and ‘please just kill me’ face.  I can’t stand it, I jump up and ninja-kick the fat guy in the neck and he tips over backwards into the aisle as his fatness slides between the seats (making this goopy fat farting sounds as it happens) and he is now stuck there forever as heavy loading equipment won’t fit down the aisle of the plane to lift his fat ass out.  Damn-it!!  That was just a quick thought of mine and I snap back to reality and kindly offer that fat bastard my aisle seat and slide to the middle seat, quickly putting down the arm rest.  Cute girl looks at me with sparkles in her eyes (rainbows and sunshine with pink unicorns start singing in the background) and I think I might get a kiss (but no) and she says ‘thank you’ and ‘that was really kind of you’.  Yea, I tell her that only one of us really needs to suffer.  Actually, I am now able to talk with hot girl and have an excuse to lean her way as fat blobicus spills over the arm rest into my seat.  Great, only 4 hours to go!  Well it could have been worse, damn-it!  It is worse, I got to go piss, that 2nd beer at the airport did me in.  It is going to take Mr. Fatness the god of blubber like 10 minutes to just get out of his seat, perhaps I should just jump over it?  And yes, he did need to use a seatbelt extender.  I probably should have complained to the airlines, but I was tired and wanted to get home, and the cute girl made up for it.  It was all sufferable, until the drink cart came by and got stuck on the side rolls of the fat ass, he of course and to shift and lean my direction so the cart could go by, yep he asked to put the arm rest up.  I don’t want to write about that part as that fat rolls and shit smushed into me for the moment.  Argh, gross, yucky, god-damn, I need to bath in bleach now.   I swear, the chance of getting stuck next to a fatty has increased with every US domestic flight.  If you travel internationally, you have a less chance, but I say good luck to all you flying these days.