My name is Mary. I’m 63 years old, a mother of two and a grandmother of three.
That day, I was flying from Chicago to Los Angeles to visit my daughter. It was my first long trip alone since my husband’s death.
We had already been flying for four hours when I suddenly felt something warm and damp near my elbow.
I looked down and froze.
Five bare toes were resting comfortably on my armrest.
At first, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me.
But then I
noticed the horrible smell.
I turned around.
Sitting behind me was an extremely overweight woman who appeared to be about 55 years old. Her enormous belly almost completely filled her seat, her legs were spread wide apart, and her short pink T-shirt barely covered her body.
She was holding a large bag of chips. Empty wrappers, napkins, and food scraps were scattered across the floor.