Based on a true story.
Part one is here.
Joan had pulled a fast one on me. She had convinced several of the passengers that I was her husband and had arranged for me to sit next to her on the remainder of the flight to Vegas. I was on the aisle, Joan was in the middle and a Mexican woman who spoke no English was on the window.
For a moment I really wanted to go back to my original seat as I was more than content reading my biking magazines. But I would have felt like a jackass (since everyone thought I was Joan's husband) to make everyone move around again so I sat down next to Joan.
I was relieved at first as we simply continued the small talk that we had started in the bar. I got mildly concerned when the drink cart came down the aisle.
Joan ordered three rum and cokes for herself and I ordered up a Beam and coke for me. As in the bar she was out drinking me three to one.
As Joan got more and more hammered, the conversation started to move to more...how should I say...saucy topics. She began telling me very intimate details of her life with her three current boyfriends. Once in a while she would start some worthless banter with the woman who could speak no English. As an added bonus, the woman behind us was from Costa Rica and did some translating.
Joan began to get louder and louder and I asked her to please keep it down a bit, as she was drawing attention. After this, her hand slid over to my thigh, and I removed it from my thigh. Next time her hand wandered it was a good bit higher, and it was removed once again. I stood up in the aisle just to get away from her for a minute.
While I was standing up I surveyed the plane for an empty seat to change with to no avail. The plane was packed. As I sat back down I politely asked Joan to keep her hands off of me. She said OK. She then motioned to me as if she needed to whisper something in my ear. I leaned over and was flabbergasted to receive her tongue winding it's way through to my inner ear. Ugh. Joan then excused herself to go to the bathroom.
Upon her return, Joan brought back with her more booze that she had comped herself from the flight attendant area for herself and me. I wasn't really interested in boozing anymore but she started drinking the Bacardi right out of the little plastic bottles. She notified me that the bathroom was indeed large enough for both of us to fit inside and that we could for sure have sex in there if she propped herself up in a certain way. I had to laugh at this one and just told her to pipe down PLEASE or it was time for me to call in a flight attendant. I was then invited to share Joan's limo from the airport to her hotel and to stay the night at her place. Joan then informed me that she had some nude photos of herself on her cell phone and tried to pull them up for me.
Mercifully, Joan then mumbled something and passed out. I glanced over at the Mexican woman on the window seat and she seemed as relieved as I was. I told her (in English, of course) that this woman wasn't really my wife - the Mexican woman just stared at me and muttered: "Que?".
When the plane landed I made a mad dash for the jetbridge and left Joan in the seat, blocking in the Mexican woman. As I was hauling ass through the airport the showgirl came up to me and asked me how my flight was. I told her the story and we both had a good laugh. We shared a cab as she was staying in the hotel next to me. We then met later for drinks with her boyfriend, who also gave me the same stellar advice on which t1tty bar to patronize in Vegas. After just two drinks I excused myself and went to bed.