So it seems no one wants to hear the romanticals of all things Faith for the past 8 weeks, sheesh I’m crying a bit on the inside. I kid I kid! It would seem, not surprising really, that Crazy Balls has taken the stage. And since I write this blog for both myself and the lovelies that stop by and leave me comments from time to time I feel obligated to give you more details, not that there’s much else there.
Without further digression,
After getting through the 8 trillion security check lines in the airport in Sao Paulo, Fellow Traveler and I patiently waited to board the plane home. The dreaded Brazilian work excursion was over and we were finally going back to civilization as we know it. No more black bean Wednesdays or feijãda as the locals so nicely named it. Yes you didn’t read that wrong on Wednesday for lunch every place serves black beans…they come with a variety of meat options (mostly pork including snout – the locals said it’s something about paying homage to the slaves…hmmm I could think of a better way to show respect but I am going off on a tangent).
I won’t lie though I really miss suco de abacaxi, fresh pineapple juice, it’s literally the best thing since sliced bread!
Anywho we’re in the airport waiting for yet another airplane when I notice this older gentleman, I’d peg him in the 60-65 ballpark but I could be wrong, standing slightly in front of us. I noticed him because he was wearing the tightest cargo pants I’d ever seen on a straight man and he had an obnoxious orange tan which lent it’s services to the 14 strands of hair on his head. They (the hair strands) were congregating on the top of his head in sort of a comb over motion not doing a great job of hiding his ginormous bald spot. Side note if you’re going bald men just do the Mr. Clean it looks way better than rocking the Terry Bradshaw or Sherman Hemsley cul-da-sac. I’m just saying.
Of course I’m fantabulously hair vain so I’d probably hang on to anything I had left as well.
Digressing…Fellow Traveler and I chuckle a bit before we’re split and board the plane to our separate seats. Once inside the jet I begin getting settled for the long ride home. About three or four minutes into the boarding process two ladies stop in front of me and begin speaking broken Portuglish (Portuguese & English), you know the none tan must have made them think I was Brazilian. After convincing them that I was in fact American and spoke English they asked if I could switch seats so they could sit together. Under normal circumstances I wouldn’t have given up my seat but they were sisters and I would have preferred to sit next to my sister instead of some random passenger.
Little did I know that taking the seat up just a few rows would put me right beside, you guessed it, Crazy Cargo Hair. See Crazy Cargo Hair was his initial name before the overnight peep show.
As I mentioned before Fellow Traveler and I had to fly through Toronto on the way back to Philadelphia. After experiencing the prison fare they offered on the ride over to Brazil I decided the best use of my 10 hour flight would be to get some much needed sleep, if possible. It had been our experience that the air over the Amazon was pretty choppy but I was fully prepared to Xanax, courtesy of Fellow Traveler’s mom-bot, myself to sleep at the first sign of turbulence.
Even before the flight attendants did their in flight emergency dance I was fast asleep. Sometime during the night, as all flights to USA from Brazil depart between 10PM-12AM, Crazy Cargo Hair stripped from the waist down. I’d like to think he stripped in the wee hours of the morning when the flight crew had dozed off in their little cubby holes but there is no way to know for sure because I was fast asleep. Not to mention its pitch black on those overnight flights so he could have been going to town on himself and I would have been none the wiser.
In any event I woke to the annoying early morning announcements from the flight crew you know the drill, turn off all electrical devices, last chance to hit the john yada yada yada. Just as I opened my eyes I was accosted by shriveled old man testes. I’m not sure about you but this sure ain’t the best part of waking up! Not to mention he was doing the whole don’t mind me I’m just adjusting my junk thing that guys do in an attempt to put his doodads back into those tight arse cargo pants. Now I can’t say for sure what type of undies Crazy Balls, note the name change, was wearing because I wasn’t positive I was in fact seeing what I was seeing.
After blinking about seven or eight times I was sure I was in fact seeing the old man peep show…and I didn’t even ask for it! I began asking myself all these questions…when did he let them loose, did he free ball the whole flight home, why didn’t he go into the bathroom and put himself back in his pants, did his testes kinda have a tan, did I really just see 65yr old balls? You know the normal morning questions!
The show only lasted about a minute or two as Crazy Balls is clearly skilled in the art of putting peas in a pod. For a split second I thought to complain but since we were getting off the plane shortly I didn’t see the benefit.
Side note whenever you say Crazy Balls you have to put up the jazz hands, like a Broadway musical…I can’t tell you why but it just seems appropriate.
7 Pardon My French:
Flatlined.
Thanks...
LOL!!
I need clarification:
Sometime during the night, as all flights to USA from Brazil depart between 10PM-12AM, Crazy Cargo Hair stripped from the waist down."
When you say stripped, do you mean his pants were in a pile on the floor along with his undies? Were his pants on, but the zipper was down, releasing the junk?
Were they boxers or briefs?
Did the guy *say* anything to you when you made eye contact?
Thanks in advance for the clarification and the photo on top is somethin' else.
I don't like squirrels to begin with and that one is doing nothing to redeem his species.
@Ndygo Sunshyne,
You're very welcome, glad I could bring a little funny to your day!
@Reforming,
Tell me about it. If I wasn't awake I was def wide awake after that show, mostly out of horriprise (horror and surprise)!
@Cardio,
Clarification: So I was pretty tired when we boarded the plane so I can't say for sure where his pants were during the night because I was sleep. In fact I didn't even see him take off his pants. All I can say is in the morning when I woke up his cargos were around his upper thighs as he shuffled to put himself back in his pants. I can't recall undies of any sort but that could just be a mental block as a result of the testes assault.
And to answer your other question, Crazy Balls said nothing. Can you believe that!?!?! After squaring himself away he took his seat as if nothing happened. I guess this is normal procedure for him.
Side note I googled balls to find a picture for this post and the squirrel just jumped out at me. Initially I was going to just use a sports photo but I thought this one was more along the lines of shock and awe. It would give the reader a similar viewing experience.
I'm so glad you explained Crazy Balls. I was so wondering about that. If his pants were that tight, as soon as the lights went out, he pulled his pants down! Had he kept them on during the entire flight, he'd be Split balls!
The jazz hands... I don't care who you are, that's funny as hell!
That first image was so damn funny, but also scary as hell. Squirrels freak me out anyway.
Love the way you told this story.
It's best not to think too much of what happened while you were sleeping.
Are you Alive Chica???
I love everything about this situation. I don't know what's more troubling, tight cargo pants on a man, or a naked seatmate.
Wonderful.
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