Curb your Enthusiasm

Last night, I found out that I'm married to Larry David. If you're not familiar with Curb Your Enthusiasm, just think about George Costanza from Seinfeld, except crankier.

I picked my wife up from the airport after her two-week long business trip.

"How was your flight, sweetie?" I asked.

"Oh! You would not believe it. I was so mad!"

"About what?"

"Well, when I got on the plane and got to my row, there was a woman sitting in the aisle seat. I told her, 'Hi, I'm going to have to get in there,' since I had the window seat, and then I put my bag in the bin."

"Okay . . ."

"When I looked back down, she hadn't moved. She was just staring at me. I said again, 'I need to get in there.' And do you know what she did?"

"What?"

"She stared at me and said, 'Okay'. Didn't try to move, didn't even offer to get up. There are only about two inches of room, if that, between her legs and the seat in front of her, so I had to fucking climb over her to get to my seat!"

"Wow."

"Then the woman who had the middle seat came over and she had to crawl over the first woman, too!"

"Jeez, how rude."

"I know! I was preparing a little speech in my head that I wanted to say to the woman who just sat down about rude fuckers and their inability to have common courtesy. I thought maybe that might shame the other woman into showing some manners next fucking time."

"So did you say that?"

"Nah."

"Why not?"

"Well, before I could get the words straight in my head, the woman in the middle seat turned to the bitch in the aisle and said, 'Weren't you the lady that the flight attendants helped who was in the wheelchair?'"

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