The Body Odor Encounter That Nearly Ruined Flying For Me

Just a Canadian trying to get to Cancun

Our tickets were for separate locations on the plane.

“But we won’t be sitting together!” my wife said. She was upset.

“It’ll be okay. We’re right across from each other. They said they can’t change it anyway. Let’s just go with it. Whatever it takes to get to Cancun, right?”

She wasn’t impressed, but there wasn’t anything to do. So we sat and waited until time to get on the plane.

My only concern was how Nicole would handle sitting separately. I really didn’t mind too much. I had no idea how what was in store, or I would have moved mountains to change it.

Separately seated

We boarded the plane and everything was fine. My seat row mates hadn’t gotten on yet, so I sat down all alone on my aisle spot. A regular old uncomfortable airplane piece of seat.

We were both on the aisle, side by side. I could still hold her hand during takeoff so she wouldn’t have a panic attack. It’s not like I was at the back, with my wife somewhere up front. We could deal.

We looked into each others eyes and smiled with excitement. We were officially on vacation. It was perfect.

A middle aged couple came down the aisle toward us. “Can you let us in please?” The guy gestured to the seat beside me. I caught a whiff of something stale and unwashed as I jumped up and let them get settled.

When I sat down beside the lady, who took the middle spot, all I could smell was yuck. The worst body odor. Like a dirty gym sock left in an ogre’s armpit, then sautéed in a pipefitter’s gloves.

Was this really happening? Did this couple reek that bad? They looked clean.

Everyone else boarded and sat down. Before we had to shut off our phones, I texted my wife the situation.

We had to shut off our phones. I stopped breathing through my nose. It was only a 5.5 hour flight. I could do this. Whatever it takes to get to Cancun.

We taxied down the runway, accelerated and blasted off. These Canadians were headed to Mexico! Soon the plane leveled out and My wife let go the death grip she had on my hand. I could see how relieved she was that so far we hadn’t died in a dazzling ball of flame on the ground.

The smell seemed like it was starting to fade. It’s okay, I thought. I’m getting used to it.

Then the man took over his jacket

As he slipped off his top layer, a zip up jacket, new waves of stench emanated off the guy. My smell parts were inflamed. My brain was trying to shut down. It was hard to believe it could be so bad.

He chatted with his wife . They were both happy go lucky and relaxed. How could she be so relaxed? Maybe her smeller is burnt out from all the body odor she endured, day and night? Or she’s in denial, gaslighted into accepting him as he is: unwashed.

Their happy back and forth was so unfair and oblivious.

I looked over at Nicole. I could tell she was suffering the onslaught too, although she wasn’t so close to it. She reached up and turned the air on, blowing it right down at her face.

I quickly did the same. It helped a tiny amount. But every time the man moved around, a fresh batch of stinky particles seemed to shoot off of him like the dirt cloud around Pigpen on the Peanuts. Even a steady stream of air blowing in my face wasn’t cutting it.

“Your suffering will be legendary, even in hell!”

— Pinhead, Hellbound, Hellraiser 2

A stealthy stench spy

I looked over at the guy, sitting by the window wearing what appeared to be a clean button up shirt with a collar. His hair was neatly cut. He was shaved. What was the deal?

Is he on the run from spies and had to sleep at the airport or in a dumpster to evade capture?

Was he allergic to water? Maybe he was a witch and he’d melt if he got wet.

The man noticed me looking his way and smiled at me, the unconcerned smile of a social nicety simpleton. Just a friendly, smelly, inconsiderate beast.

There was no escape

There was a building dread like an H.P. Lovecraft story. Slowly the smell worked it’s way into the deepest corners of my mind, threatening sanity itself. I was looking into the unknowable depths of madness. I had to get out!

I made a long trip to the bathroom. It was the worst thing I could have done.

My sinuses cleared out while I did my business then washed up. I could only stay in that tiny personal duty area so long because there was a lineup. Shaking, I went back to my seat and took my medicine.

It was like crawling up a goat’s rear end.

No one else seemed to notice what was going on. All those silly Canadians, just like me, were probably just to polite to show how much suffering they were enduring.

Cheese on a plane. Why not snakes instead

It was starting to almost be tolerable. As I took care of my dry lips, I realized that my lip balm was minty. I smeared some of that under my nose, to mask the horrible ever present smell. It helped a little.

My senses were being fried, cooked out. I was starting to go numb. Only a few more hours to go.

The food service started. Flight attendants brought us drinks and little bags of crackers.

Then my row mates brought out the cheese. A fancy one, the kind that doesn’t smell good. This can’t be happening, I thought. But it was.

How can you bring blue cheese on a plane? Isn’t there a law?

They got out some bread and this sliced fancy cheese and made themselves a little feast on the fold down tray. As they huddled together and shared their cheese, it added a new layer to the miasma around them. The cheese dimension to the odor had hints of goat, with sharp highlights of rotten milk.

Time passed by as slow as a really slow passing thing

I tried reading my book. Couldn’t concentrate. I read the same page over and over and over. I reapplied my mint lip balm all over under my nose.

I tried to watch a movie from the flight entertainment system. Couldn’t keep track of the plot. I shut it off.

I turned my head away and pretended to sleep. This too shall pass. It was only a matter of time.

Eons later, the plane started descending into paradise.

Customs never smelled so good

As I sprinted away from that rude smelling dude into the airport and queued up to get through customs, I noticed the smells of normal people and normal things. I was relieved. The whole flight I was worried that the stench would burn my sense of smell right out and ruin my trip.

We stepped out of the airport into the hot sun. A friendly guy was selling beer with lime out of a cart right by the door.

An ice cold Corona never tasted so good.