Spraying skunk on top of anything will never, in any way, create a better environment.
Travelling is a favorite hobby. Often the price paid for the adventure is expending an exorbitant amount of money to be treated poorly, then having to share a small, tight, uncomfortable tube of re-circulating air space with fellow humans.
First I would like to congratulate Frontier airlines on their cheap, hard vinyl seat design that includes the inability to recline. Hurray for no more strangers laying their heads in my lap! Truly this should prevent about 50% of passenger on passenger tussles. Now figure out a way people can’t slip their bare or stockinged feet up between seats, or put their long hair up and over to dangle in the face of those sitting behind, or find a way to prevent the pushing, shoving and cheating to be first on and first off, and most problems would be gone. Breathalyzers before boarding would help, too, but I do enjoy my pre-flight, nerve-calming cocktail.
In no particular order of shame, I have spent hours with my nose covered, trying to assuage various sorts of body and other human odors permeating the plane air around me, been wetly sneezed upon; and poked, prodded and kicked by toddlers. I experienced a sticky, sweaty Velcro encounter with a very large woman whose limbs spilled over her seat and most of mine, augmented by her travel outfit consisting only of short shorts and a tank top. I watched a man in my row continue to methodically rub his privates as he read a book (must have been a good one!), I have had Chatty Cathies talk and talk and talk, even when I employed the universal silence signal of headphones and head buried in a book. I have watched newlyweds engage in heavy foreplay, observed a couple try and fail to become members of the mile high club, listened to old marrieds berate each other, and beheld flight attendants talking so rudely to customers that in any other industry they would be immediately fired. I have watched passengers lug their overstuffed carry-ons and obliviously (or not) bang already seated passengers’ heads at they stomped down the aisle. And yes, there has been more than one encounter with vomit and poop, luckily not my own.
I now have a new entry into this accounting of atrocious behavior. On my most recent flight to Denver, as per usual there were some odd smells; odd, bad smells because, well, humans are human. I find myself wearing slightly stretchy shirts on flights so that I can lift the collar and pull it a bit up and over my nose, if necessary.
After so many years of travel, I am now expert at determining both definition and source of foul odors on planes. My guess, seat 18 A or B was experiencing digestive issues that can often be caused by altitude and pressure changes. Please note that while the emanating smells were obnoxious and uncomfortable for those around who must share air, I don’t believe the gasser was emitting intentionally, as he was not an eleven-year-old boy.
Now on to Mrs. Passenger 19B. Hi there, from 20B. My nose detected row 18 odor as well. I am sorry, as I am sure the smell was even more pungent for you. But … perfume is not in any way ever a line of defense. The first time you liberally spritzed your wrist and held it to your nose, I was collateral damage, but I could somewhat understand your misguided attempt to protect yourself.
The next time, about five minutes later, when you sprayed the air in front of you multiple times, I gagged. Perfume is personal. If you can smell it on yourself, you are wearing too much. If you are using it as an air freshener, you are an uninformed, selfish idiot. My guess, it was Jungle Gardenia, probably the thickest, most cloying and revolting perfume scent ever to assault the nostrils of the general public.
Of course I am Midwestern to the core, so instead of confronting a fellow passenger, I just complained very loudly to my husband sitting next to me, hoping the offender would hear and realize she, unlike the gasser, was intentionally inflicting olfactory pain on her fellow travelers.
15 minutes or so later, a spritz on her daughter to the left of her, and her husband to the right. Was she now thinking perhaps they were the source?
After much harrumphing and grumbling, the toiletted trio eventually moved back about four rows to empty seats. Unfortunately, the spritzer found some odors she did not like in that area as well, and continued to spew at will. The perfume had now gone viral, and was being re-circulated throughout the plane.
Complaining to anyone at this point was futile, so I simply pulled my shirt up higher, curled down in my seat and contemplated whether fart smell or obnoxious perfume was worse. Then I realized that wasn’t the question. It was not an either/or, it was like adding a third and a fifth on top of the basic note. The base note doesn’t go away, it’s just enhanced by the addition.
Thanks, Mrs. 19B, I hope we never meet again. I’m pretty sure I would be able to smell you coming and avoid the encounter.