It wasn’t a usual cabin, being that it felt more like a movie theater - no one talking, everyone turning their cell phones off: quiet enough to hear the person next to you’s stomach growl. My eyes wandering as I tried to avoid The Brave Little Toaster in the background. Delta Airlines flight 129 Nashville to Salt Lake City - and I hadn’t even been given my peanuts. Forty-five minutes left on the flight and the stewardess is a sitting mannequin - her head tilted back, leaking hot air and snores, filling the plane like a kitchen with a leaky stove. There were a few passengers with full bladders, holding their urine, feeling that if they got up she would magically awake. I was forced to sit next to a sweaty, overweight forty-something-year-old guy who’s sitting on the edge of my skirt - he smelled like what would be a decent pot roast, and I began to taste it as I closed my mouth. My son, Hunter, sits next to me fogging up the windows with his breath so that he could doodle some stick figures, leaving behind a faint smudge of where his lips had been. Hunter bent down to the floor like a folding pocket knife, scooping up his shaggy stuffed blue octopus. Myron (My-Won as hunter called him), the octopus, had been with him since birth. Myron’s stuffing was exposed where two of his tentacles never grew back - one lost to an elevator door that closed too quickly, the other eaten by a hungry vacuum cleaner. The handicapped octopus only had six tentacles, or legs, as Hunter knew them. I noticed Hunter unbuckling his seat belt as I looked to the right.

"Mommy, I hafta go to the baf vroom!" He shouted.

"Hush; some people are napping," I whispered.

"Buts Mommy!" He screamed. "I hafta go to the -"

"Sonuvabitch!" Blurted the stewardess as her neck snapped forward like a cut umbilical chord - I might have just been blinking but it seemed as if the lights flickered when she spoke.

"Mommy, what’s a sona bitch?" Hunter asked while seating back down.

"Never you mind, Hunter!’ I said as I grabbed his arm.

When I released his arm he began to cry, tears pouring from his brown eyes to the seam of his lips. Few escaped the teddy graham scent cannon, and dripped from his chin onto his teal shirt to spell out "You’re a bad mother". He pushes me away as I try to comfort him.

"Hey there!" Said the stewardess in a thick southern accent. "You there, mother of the year, take a bow."

"Ha-hhhow dare you harass me!" I stuttered. "I’m a passenger, I bought a ticket, you can’t just talk like that to me!"

"I’m the Big Cheese on this plane." She stated. "I can do whatever the hell I want."

"If you’re the Big Cheese, then Myron here is your pepper jack." I said while lifting up the octopus.

"What? What are you talking about? Pepper jack? Octeepus?" She replied confused. "That don’t e’en make sense."

My face turned the bright color of raw meat, not knowing how my joke didn’t make sense. Personally, I thought it was a good joke. While looking at me she began to smirk.

"Stop smiling, and do your job." I half-shouted though my teeth.

"I’ve been working for 78 hours straight, lady, so go drain the blood outta your face and leave me alone." The stewardess said as the passengers watched, not a single one of them blinking.

The man across from me held his fingers to his lips while mouthing "that’s enough". I thought of some things to say, some questions to ask, but I just kept them to myself.

"If you want some pea-nits or a pilla, then go back there and get one for yourself." She said while pointing to the back, using country dialect. "Cause I jus’ flew from Austin to Baltimore, from Baltimore to Atlanta, from Atlanta to Nashville - and now I have to deal with you? Screw you, missy, I’m on break."

"Get up." I said to Hunter while unbuckled my seat belt and his.

"Excuse me." Said the overweight man next to me in a deep voice. "Are you going back there to get some of dem peanuts?"

"Yes, yes I am."

"J’you think you could get me a bag?" He asked.

"Hey, get me some, too!" Shouted another man across the aisle.

"No problem."

I took Hunter by the hand and wove through the narrow walkway to the back of the plane, feeling as if the stewardess’ eyes were digging in my back. Hunter pulled open what he called the giant fruit roll-up covering the storage room, revealing a refrigerator, microwave, and a few boxes stamped with the words "Top Flight Peanuts". He quickly ran to the oval shaped window, placing his nose against the glass.

"Look My-won, a birdie." Hunter said as he stared at the black bird. "Do you wanna see the birdie My-won?" He asked while holding the octopus up to the window.

I looked around for a box cutter or a pair of scissors but settled for my thumbnail. After digging through the tape, I gave Hunter a bag and grabbed a few handfuls for the others and myself.

"Thank ya ma’am." Said the large man as I handed him two bags.

I sat down, leaving the pile of peanuts in my lap as hands and arms began snaking their way between and above seats, reaching for the bags. I started to feel like I was in a haunted house, the way the different color limbs came at me in all directions. Few mumbled thank you, and one man repeated a question as if I didn’t hear him the first time.

"Miss, miss, do you mind getting me a pillow?" He asked. "Since you’re taking over as stewardess and all."

"Yeah, she does." Said the stewardess, as the plane shook closing the shade on Hunters window. "She ain’t taken over nothing, cause this here’s my job, Buster."

"Then will you get me a pillow and blanket, please?" He said while shaking.

"No! I done told yous I’m on break," said the stewardess as she stomped to the storage room.

She flung the maroon curtain shut like a car door on a rainy day. I closed my eyes as I began listening to the music from the microwave as she punched in the time. I waited for the alarm of the cooked food, but instead I smelled the bubbling cheese as it exploded from the pocket of chicken. She emerged from the wave of the curtain carrying a plate with a hump of revived cordon bleu still steaming from the radiated heat. The coat-hanger of a woman across from her spoke up as the stewardess sat down with the manufactured meat.

"Are you going to be serving all of us warm food?" Asked the woman as she licked her lips.

"Nope, this here’s first class supper." Said the stewardess with a full mouth.

"But there’s no first class on this plane." I interrupted.

"Yep, sure ain’t." She replied with a slight chuckle.

I leaned back in my seat while folding my arms, thinking I should probably tell Hunter he could go to the bathroom now - seeing as how I needed to go, too. I turned to tap him on the shoulder, but noticed he was asleep, his head bouncing off the seat in front of us with Myron clutched tightly in his hands. I gently moved Hunter’s body to sit upright in his seat, kissing him on the forehead while feeling as if the stewardess’ breath was on my neck. I unbuckled my seat belt and slid sideways down the narrow aisle. After twisting the knob on the thin bathroom door, I noticed the wrapper to a "Hot Cinnamon" flavored condom teetering on the edge of the pale, yellow- stained toilet seat. The strong scent stung my nostrils as I brushed the wrapper into the blue liquid filling the bowl. I glanced around the bathroom for a paper seat cover noticed there was none, so I hovered my half-naked self over the tiny hole, worrying that my legs would break off at the calf. There was a knock at the door that startled me; I fell into the wall dripping a short trail along the floor.

"Just a minute." I shouted while pulling up my pants, forgetting to wipe.

"I don’t have a minute." Replied what had to be the stewardess. "So shake your prick off and get the hell outta there."

"Okay," I said while opening the door. "Sorry for takin-."

"Thank the Lord." Interrupted the stewardess. "Now move your ass, before I goes and get the T.S.S. standing out here."

She shoved me out of the way and closed the door. I placed my left foot against the bottom of the door and my right arm against the wall. Since Hunter was asleep, I didn’t have to worry about being a role model, so I decided she wasn’t going to leave the bathroom. I braced myself as I heard the pilot announce we’d be landing soon. The "Buckle Your Seat Belt" sign began to flash in sequence with the beating on the door.

"Hey, will some buddy come help me open this door, I think it’s stuck?" She said loudly through the closed door.

She must’ve crouched down and looked under the door because then she shouted.

"Eey’ dumb ass, move your damn foot."

"Why should I?" I replied, loud enough to wake Hunter.

"Cause if you don’t, I’m gonna report you to the Delta Airlines’ officials."

"Like anyone would listen to you."

"You’ll see lady, I’ll teach you a lesson."

"Not if I never move from this position." I said.

"Come on now, I’ve got to be the first off this plane if I’m gonna catch flight 206 to Seattle. An I have to make it, or else I won’t have enough money to pay support fur my six kids."

Six kids! Jesus Christ, who’d want to have sex with this woman so many times? I decided I’d make a deal with her, feeling that this wasn’t just some kind of lie.

"Okay, okay." I said. "I’ll open the door on one condition."

"What is it?" She asked.

"You have to promise me that you’ll never treat anymore passengers as rudely as you have treated us today." I said, while feeling clever.

"As long as I don’t have to be friends with you or somethin’, then I promise."

I opened the door as the plane began to land, holding onto the seat next to me to brace myself - the light began to flicker as the plane threw me to the floor.The stewardess walked out of the bathroom while throwing me dirty looks. I peered up to see Hunter standing there in the aisle, holding onto Myron by one of his tentacles.

"Sit down, honey." I said to Hunter as the stewardess rolled her eyes, and the plane came to a stop.

The pilot crawled out of the cockpit and opened the side door. The stewardess stepped in front of me and began walking towards Hunter - who still hadn’t sat down.

"Hunter, I know you need to go to the bathroom, but just sit down a second so she can get through." I said as the stewardess walked up to him. The stewardess shouted at him to move but still he didn’t budge. She began to get annoyed and angry.

"Move!" She screamed while grabbing one of Myron’s tentacles, yanking at it until the threads ripped, leaving him with only have a tentacle to remember him by.

She shoved him to the carpet as she made her way to the door. He lay there sobbing next to the name tag that had fallen out of her front pocket, cradling the last part of Myron he had left. Throwing a tantrum he kicked his legs blindly into all directions, hitting the large man who sat next to me. Her heels tapped as she fled down the metal steps. I picked up her name tag as I rushed to the door to catch a glimpse of her. I’d never forget how fast seven legs could carry someone, as I watched her sprint across the airfield. I read the name tag, knowing it was the name of someone I couldn’t ever forgive (Angie McBargin).