I recently flew across the country to spend a few days with a "male friend," if you know what I mean. Now I was a little nervous about transporting two large purple dildos in my suitcase, but I've found that if you wrap them up in t-shirts, you won't get stopped at the X-ray checkpoint. Whew! Remember that one, girls.

So I spent a nice weekend with a nice gentleman and his very nice friend, el pony de baloney. After a few days of gleefully riding bareback, I was sad when my friend dropped me off at the airport for my flight home. When I boarded a few minutes later, I was still crying with abandon, mascara streaked all the way down to my chin. I was very disappointed to find myself assigned a middle seat. I sat down and waited anxiously, fearing who or what I would have to sit next to.

First it was the hippie: red ponytail, medium build, faint scent of patchouli. He plopped down to my left and I cringed. After awhile he said, "What's wrong?" and I merely answered, "Love stinks." Now at this point, a decent human being might say, "I'm sorry," or quietly mind his own business, but no, this joker had his own agenda.

"I guess this wouldn't be a good time to ask you to dinner then," he said. I turned and gave him the look of death. "Okay," he said, with gleeful delusion. He then proceeded to tell me how pretty I was, etc., etc. I ignored him.

Next I was face to face with the person assigned to my right: A very large man with a very large walking stick decorated with feathers and beads. Okay! After an awkward shuffle, the big man squeezed in next to me, his massive shoulders taking up half my seat! What could I possibly do? Lean into the fire-crotch hippie next to me? I scrunched up and braced myself for any contact. Just when I thought I would be left alone, the hippie piped up. "Will you give me a massage?"

Was he out of his mind? Wait, I mean, WAS HE OUT OF HIS FRIGGIN' MIND?!!! Gross! "It will make you feel better," he continued. "By making someone else feel good, you'll transfer the sadness out of you." Sick! I wasn't going to listen to his new age mumbo jumbo! Meanwhile, the giant-sized dude's elbow was digging into my side. How is it that out of all the people on this plane I wound up next to these two? What are the chances? Word to Spirit Mountain: Luck does not happen.