February 2022, I’m booked on a red eye back from Reno. Spent the weekend of trying to make some money to pay my variable rate mortgage, but no dice. We lost the house that June. Any who, I’m not sure if it was Spring break or what but this flight was packed with a bunch of rats. I have the honor of being boarded last because I am in zone 3 back by the toilet. If you’ve never been zone 3, then you don’t know the feeling of what it’s like to catch the snotty gaze of a zone 1 or economy plus passenger. Not even first class, the people that are after it. For first class people you’re not even on their radar. Economy plus and zone 1 can eat shit. Anyway I haven’t showered in about two days since I’ve been on a Roulette bender fueled by Vodka Red Bulls, American Spirits, and the last of my sons expired Vyvanse. I was pushing through this narrow plane line slowly. I was sweating from my ears, and having heart palpitations. I reached into my coat pocket and took out my self prescribed ambien, and shook a couple into my face hole. By the time I get to my seat, and strap in I’ll be in an induced coma.

As I approach my seat I can see I’ll be sitting next to another man. he was well groomed and in a navy suit. He was all business, and I was a bag of bones that reeked of gas station weed. It woke me up a little because that means theres about to be a war to start this flight. Everyone knows the better man gets the arm rest. Not this half ass - you take the front of it i’ll take the back of the rest, then our arms and hands will touch this whole flight. None of that. As a man who needed money I didn’t need that, it could awaken some desperate options. Well I wasn’t going to pussy out of this, I had lost all weekend, I was not going to lose the battle of the arm rest. Its a 5 hour flight back, If I lose this I might as well bum rush the emergency exit door and spartan kick it off the plane.

I come up to my seat, and something is off. This guy- something wasn’t right. He nodded nicely to me and just looked off out of the window. Then it hit me, this dude had no arms. He’s just torso and sleeves. It was like a surprise finger in the ass, completely shocked for it but deep down I knew this it doesn’t get better than this. Having a full arm rest to yourself on a long flight may be the most erotic feeling you ever get 30000 feet up. The mile high club only works really with private jets, or if you have no morals on Spirit. But good lord it felt amazing. I could feel the pills slowly taking me, as I sat with my head back with an ear to ear grin. Nothing in first class could compare, they had know idea the luxury I was blessed with. This plane could go down and they’d recover my body with a smile on my decapitated head. I could rest easy. At least I thought then I asked my self how the fuck did he get in his suit and tie his tie. It was too late though, I was out cold.

I woke up 5 hours later in Newark on an empty plane without my answer. It will forever eat my up not knowing. A stewardess came up to me and said sir we landed 40 minutes ago we need you to get off the plane. “Ya sure thing sweetheart” as I drifted in and out of consciousness. I looked over to the window to see if my armless stranger friend was still there. He was gone in the wind. He must’ve stepped over me like a stray dog in the street. That’s ok it was well worth it because I looked down and saw my arm still comfortably on the arm rest. This was it, my beautiful piece of paradise.