I’m writing this letter from my business class seat en route to Seoul. It isn’t very crowded, and everyone seems to be passed out except for me. There’s a rather obese woman next to me snoring.
Every time a stewardess walks by, they hurry and avoid eye contact. I think I’m supposed to be asleep like everyone else. But I don’t sleep on planes, Matthew. I just don’t. Flying is already weird enough. There’s no way in hell in closing my eyes. I just wish one of these gals would bring me some damn coffee.
They gave me some weird pickled vegetable tart right after takeoff. I keep having to get up and let out my farts in the lavatory. Still, I wish they’d bring me another one. It was actually very good.
I was watching a movie, but the headphones were too tight. They were giving me a headache. I suppose I’ll just read… right after I go release a few more farts.