Ode to the Frenchman in 30 C

2 Nov

In honor of our 4 hour delayed flight on “the Greyhound Bus of the Skies” (Aerolineas Argentinas) I have written this poem to the douche bag in front of me.

Ode to the Frenchman in 30 C

Tho not a surprise, you smell a bit like poo poo (oui! oui!) This I know because you are too close to me. Reclining your seat, streching your arms, flailing your pen All near my face. I see your tighty whiteys thru the big hole in your pants Oh frenchman, I know you are too cool! You play guitar! You speak three languages! You flirt with the flight attendant (haw haw haw!)! But you scratch your hair like you have fleas. If only your seat was 29C instead. Oui oui!

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