The airplane peanuts-eating guy I can't unsee

At least he's memorable?

I seriously doubt this is what Henry David Thoreau had in mind when he wrote these words:

If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured, or far away.

In my memory, he was a middle-age, balding man. Dowdy and rotund, but only slightly.

The sort of man who could easily blend into society after committing atrocious crimes, only to shock associates and strangers when arrested. “That guy did those things?!”

Both of us were traveling solo to somewhere, occupying seats in the same row, with people between us. And while I cannot remember our destination city, I am unable to forget his flight crime.

Hours into the fascinating people-watching airports and airplanes uniquely provide, I was—knowing myself—ready for a snack and reading time. I realize I could be describing a moment in kindergarten. Apparently, we never age out of certain activities.

This was prior to the FAA ban of peanuts on planes, and back in the good old days where we were apparently willing to take out our seatmates—willy-nilly like—with all those peanut fumes on airplanes. Now we get benign cracker packets I won’t complain about. Sometimes they include cheddar-flavored crackers; my middle-class palate adores all things cheese and cheese-adjacent.

As the flight attendant neared, our row anticipatorily folded down the trays attached to the seatbacks ahead of us. I took my drink, likely cran-apple or ginger ale, and my two bags of salted peanuts. These I set aside for later consumption in case of emergencies. You know, an emergency like the plane going down over water in which case I anticipate myself successfully evacuating but not before I grab my peanuts and coat to tide me over while bobbing in the ocean awaiting rescue.

Photo by Hans on Unsplash

Across the aisle, the subject of this piece—let’s call him Chad—received the beverage of his choice from the flight attendant.

He ignored the world’s most subtle cup holder: an impressively shallow, circular depression in the plastic tray. Instead, he set his beverage elsewhere on the tray. Reckless, this guy.

Gambling there’d be no jostling to send it skating off the tray, he turned his apparently-eager attention to his peanuts. He tore open the foil wrapping of one package. Then he poured the contents into the cupholder and repeated the process with the second bag, proving that he was not oblivious to the cupholder’s existence.

This was long before I ever knew I was a writer, but if being a writer means observing and remembering what humans do that is endlessly interesting and in this case abhorrent, I have been one since at least that moment.

Engrossed in Operation Peanuts, Chad was oblivious to my stares from across the aisle. Also, I’m not rude or a dummy; even a wannabe spy knows to make their surveillance subtle. In mild horror, I watched as Chad picked individual peanuts out of the cupholder as if that was its intended purpose—a snack holder—and ate them.

We do not know how thoroughly they cleaned planes in the BC (Before COVID) era. sincerely doubt they thoroughly disinfected each tray and cup/snack-holder. And I furthermore doubt that they then wiped them with a cloth wetted with water rendering it food-grade.

Eventually, Chad ate the last peanut. But he was not done. NOPE.

With flair, he lifted his right forefinger to his mouth and licked it. He took that finger and, holding down his other fingers with his thumb, wiped it around the inside edges of the cup holder where crumbs remained. THEN HE LICKED THE PEANUT CRUMBS AND WHATEVER ELSE OFF HIS FINGER. And repeated it until no salty evidence remained.

Shuddered then, shudder still.

Pretty remarkable that a person can make it to middle-life without noticing or caring that, when it comes to at least airplane peanut consumption, you don’t have to do things the way others do. That said, if I ever run into Chad, I’m going to suggest that, if he wants to live a long and healthy life, he do at least one thing a little more like the rest of us. Maybe take up a different drum to beat in his quest to be his own person.

Isn’t life cool, and aren’t people interesting?? See you in the next one…