It’s really better that way.
Even if I did crawl all over him in my Ambien induced state, it’s really his own fault. After all, his elbow was intruding into my seat. And one of his impossibly long legs was splayed in my 15-inches of real estate.
I have all the luck. Asian men are supposed to be small. Not only was I stuck in the middle seat on a 15-hour flight, but I was sitting next to an Asian Amazon. A normal sized Asian man sat on my left, but his larger than life Asian elbow was also intruding into my space.
I was irritated. And I wanted to sleep.
Before taking my Ambien, I thought back to my previous Ambien experiences. One week earlier, on the flight over, word has it that my feet started making their way up the side of the plane wall. I have vague memories of Kimmy scolding me when I hit a fellow passenger in the head. I’m not sure I believe her, but apparently one foot ultimately made its way between the seats in front of me and came to rest on the tray table in seat 45B.
Did I trust myself to take an Ambien with this guy’s leg right in front of my lap?
I thought back to the time I took Ambien on my flight to New Zealand. I swore on my life to Kimmy and Luke that the Air New Zealand flight attendants changed into Disney character costumes and put on huge fun wigs when the lights went down. I seem to recall telling flight attendant Belle that I had played a whisk broom in the Town Theatre production of Beauty and the Beast.
What would I do to leg-man if I took Ambien?
Oh, yeah. There was also that time when I accidentally took an Ambien instead of my Synthroid while I was in Buffalo and drove my late sister-in-law to her Radiation treatment. NO! I did not kill her. I did drive into a bush, though, before demanding Pop Tarts.
I thought about all of these Ambien experiences as I held the little pill in my hand. Wine made it worse, of course.
Then I looked at that leg. And his elbow. And the other guy’s elbow.
And I took the Ambien. With a wine chaser.
When I woke up six hours later, Leg man’s leg was no longer in my space. He was snuggled up against the window. Wearing a hood over his face.
There were no Asian elbows in sight.
Whatever I had done did the trick.
I'll never know what happened. But it's probably better that way.