Last week I took off for Dubai. At Jeddah airport, and with time to kill, I mused over the recent news items covering the refurbishment of this run down establishment. The multi-gazillion riyals contracts soon to be awarded to different contractors should go a long way in re-tiling some of the flooring in the terminal halls, or adding a couple of jet-ways to replace the antiquated mobile lounges. Money well spent, I suppose. I hope they do something about the air-conditioning and lavatory facilities as well.
And then it was time for the airline to herd their passengers on buses to the aircraft. While hanging on to one of those straps to secure my footing, I observed an Asian lady having a rough go with maintaining her stability as the bus made it’s turns around the tarmac. Noticing a Saudi youth flopped on a seat clearly marked and designated for the women and the elderly, I motioned for him to get up and allow the lady his place. His puzzled look prompted me to point out to the sign in both Arabic and English.
His response? "Insha’allah".
That got my goat! I mean this punk would rather indulge in his own comfort than help a lady in distress! "Get up," I said disgustedly. "Here’s a lady who obviously needs the seat more than you do. Do the right thing." Again he responded, "Insha’llah." At that point nothing would have given me more satisfaction than slugging his smug face, and literally hoisting him off the bus. The poor Asian lady noticing the rising swell of anger in my tone then whispered to me that it was all right, and that we were almost by the aircraft.
I had to get the last word in though. As we were leaving the bus, I turned to face this arrogant youth and asked him sarcastically, "You’re not from Jeddah, are you?" Noticing his puzzled look, I repeated my question, only this time my octaves rising a little higher. When he shook his head, I replied with a smirk and a wide smile on my face. "I thought so. I would hate to think otherwise," I said turning my back as I left the bus and him contemplating my remark.
Once on the aircraft, I turned over my jacket to the flight attendant as I began to seat myself. A few moments later, a passenger carrying a Jordanian passport came up to the seat in front of me. As he began to settle in, he removed his jacket to hand over to the stewardess. That’s when this wave of nausea hit me! The guy smelled. His body odors were very unpleasant, and as the air in the aircraft cabin was yet to circulate with full force, I was the primary beneficiary of this man’s lack of hygiene.
Now how do you tell a middle-aged man that his bodily odors are so offensive and disturbing to the environment around him? And in the closed confines of an aircraft? And still parked on the ground? I was looking forward to getting out of Jeddah that day. And I was already perturbed by the punk’s behavior a short while ago.
Short of addressing this issue directly to him and risk getting thrown out of the aircraft and missing my trip altogether, I decided to tone down my aggression and reached down for my after shave which I began spraying liberally all around me, and including the perimeters of the seat he sat on.
He must have finally sensed that something was not kosher, especially after some of my abundant spray inadvertently brushed the top of his bald head.
Half turning around and giving me a nasty glare, and gleaning from the murderous look in his eyes, I figured he must have got the message. I stared back without blinking. This was beginning to feel like a showdown at the OK Corral. Finally he slumped back into his seat, but not after asking the stewardess for his jacket back, which he quickly put on. Thank God it masked most of the unpleasant smell.
Finally the engines started and we were on my way.
As I settled into my seat contemplating the relaxing and care-free days ahead, I was also depressingly envisaging the return trip.
— Tariq A. Al-Maeena, [email protected]