Let me explain. 

I sleep very deeply on flights. Knowing this about myself, I usually request a window seat so that I can snooze/drool/snore against the wall of the plane and not be in anyone’s way. But for this particular flight to LA, I ended up in the aisle seat. 

In the middle and window seat were a younger boy and girl, around college age. When they sat down during boarding, they immediately began to canoodle– at which point, as a means of survival, I forced myself into a deep sleep. Don’t get me wrong, I’m perfectly fine with couples who are in love and happy, I just don’t need that happiness spilling over the armrest and into my bag of Doritos. 

I conked out immediately, before the plane even took off. I guess at some point, the limber young man in the window seat had to pee and didn’t want to wake me, so he climbed over me like a ninja. Which worked well on his way to the bathroom. I slept right through it. Unfortunately, on the way back, his catlike skills were no match for my contorted napping pose and my tendency to sleep-spasm. I shifted right as he was crawling over me, causing him to slip on the armrest and fall penis-first into my face. 

His girlfriend laughed hysterically. I laughed too, because there was nothing else to do. The guy was apologetic and mortified. But the good news is that we all got to spend the next three hours sitting next to each other in a confined, intimate space. Our continental breakfast, served moments later, was a fairly awkward meal. 

Was I annoyed? Eh, yes and no. To be honest, waking up with a penis in my face is totally fine with me. But as a grown, educated, independent woman, I think I have earned the right to choose said penis.