>2 hour plane ride to toronto
>thirsty as all hell, lips are parched, throat is scratchy, saliva is viscous
>sitting beside male poo in his 30s, he has the aisle seat
>30 minutes in poo gets up to use bathroom
>poo sits back down looking relieved
>faint wafts of shit begin to make their way to my nose, each more pungent than the last
>i instinctively look down at the poos hands, see brown streaks on his fingernails
>please let that be pigmentation
>poo evidently notices, wipes his hands with a used kleenex
>streaks are gone
>the worst is confirmed
>1 hour in, cant take it anymore, struggling to swallow, lips feel like they will tear open
>strong plume of shit still hovers around our seats, our own personal rancid atmosphere
>drinks are served
>FINALLY
>flight attendant pours me a sprite, hands over the cup
>i reach out my hand, trembling with anticipation
>but no, wait, something is wrong
>time freezes, my brain is in overdrive
>this must be what its like as your car is just about to go over the edge of a cliff
>the flight attendant didnt push the drink trolley up far enough... she is standing too far away to reach me
>what's more, she is holding the cup by the middle.
>the poo is already reaching out to politely pass the cup to me
>there isnt enough clearance for the poo to grab it without touching the rim
>fears confirmed
>poo grabs the rim claw style, literally the worst case scenario.
>a mixture of poo oil and shit has now been imparted to the rim at equidistant spaces around the rim
>the cup is compromised
>poo passes it to me with toothy grin
>"t-thanks"
>poo sips heartily at his drink, smacking his lips and "ahh"ing after every gulp
>full sparkling drink sits on my tray, taunting me to no end
>15 minutes later poo looks over, "not thirsty?"
>"mind if i have that? i'm parched"
>"s-sure"
>poo downs my whole cup in one go and belches into his shitty poo mitt
>mfw i pretend to be looking out window the rest of the flight as my tears turn to dust