December 1963 (Oh What a Night)

This is a song that frequently plays in my head in the mornings.  You probably know it:

 

 December, 1963 (Oh What a Night) by The Four Seaons

 

 



 

As a parent of young children, the wife and I don't get enough sleep.  This song plays in my head often as my alarm goes off early in the morning after having a rough night with the kids.  Just last week my daughter got the stomach flu and the baby had an earache.  I think I figured out that I got 10 hours of sleep in 3 nights.

I could blog about what a bother this is, but I think I've written enough about the kids and how they disrupt my sleep.  I kept thinking all week about what I could share that would have to do with "oh what a night." 

 

I know this song has nothing to do with bad nights, but bad nights are the reason I have the song stuck in my head.  I've had many bad nights in my life, but one in particular stuck out that I feel the need to share. 

 

About 10 years ago, I was on my way to visit a friend in New York City.  There was a cheap direct flight available through JetBlue.  The flight was a red eye, I had taken it before.  One challenge for me is that it's virtually impossible for me to sleep sitting upright.  I can fall asleep just about anywhere as long as I have a blanket and I can lie down.  I was planning on it being a long night, but had no idea what was in store for me on this flight. 

 

I noticed on my ticket that I was assigned to sit on the back row.  I did not like this, but like I said, I had already resigned that this would be a bad flight so I accepted it for what it was.  To my surprise, and relief, once I sat down it was evident that I would be on the back row alone.  Awesome!  I would be able to get a blanket from the flight attendant and lie down on the 3 seats and sleep! 

 

The flight took off and proceeded as normal.  It was just past midnight and I was exhausted.  I had my blanket and once the seat belt sign was off I was going to crash and it was going to be perfect!

 

(A side note.  I am an incredibly passive person.  I have gotten much better as I've gotten older, but 10 years ago I was neither confident, or mature enough to handle the situation that you'll soon learn about.  I guess what I'm saying is, I'm ashamed about the way I handled this.)

 

The seat belt light was turned off, and almost as soon as I unlatched the belt, I was tapped on the shoulder.  The woman standing before me was dressed like a prostitute.  I'm not kidding.  I couldn't believe it.  "It's crowded up front.  Can I sit by you?" 

 

Pathetic and passive 23-year-old Brady did not want anybody to sit by him on this flight.  But "of course" was the response I gave to this scantily-clad woman.  I don't remember how the whole conversation went after she sat down, but it was something like this:

Scantily-Clad Woman:  Oh, thank you.  I was certain I wouldn't be able to get any sleep on this flight.
Me:  Yeah, me too.

SCW:  Why are you going to New York?

Me:  To see a friend.

SCW:  I'm going to meet my boyfriend.  We met online.  I'm sorry I'm dressed like this, I just got off work.  I'm an exotic dancer.  I had to rush from the end of my shift right to this flight, I didn't have time to change. 

Me:  (Jaw drops to the floor)

 

The flight went on and my patience with this woman quickly dwindled. 

 

She wouldn't stop talking to me.  She found out I was a Mormon, she spent an hour or so trying to convince me to drink and told me stories about her life, the man she was meeting, her job etc.  Once she finally shut up, she laid down on the empty seat on the row, occupying two seats.  Relieved, I did my best to try to put my head against the walls of the plane and sleep.  At one point she tried to put her head on my lap and I had to tell her I wasn't comfortable with that. 

 

(Another side note.  I tell this story as a means for relating the events as they happened on this night.  It's not very often that I have such a close encounter with an exotic dancer.  It's not my intent to paint a bad picture of people in this sort of profession.  I'm sure there are plenty of respectful and pleasant people in this line of profession.  This woman, to be blunt, was ridiculous.) 

 

The worst part happened next.  She got up to use the restroom.  When she returned she was not well.  She looked pale and told me she was feeling really sick.  As a Mormon, I confess, that I am sheltered and have little to no encounter with narcotics.  I have seen some movies, and while this gives me no street credibility, it appeared she had been punched in the nose, was having either really bad allergies or she had a negative reaction to something she snorted.  She was sniffing like crazy and her nose had faint traces of blood. 

This all carried on for the last hour of the flight.  She kept saying she was going to puke and literally clung to me as she suffered.  This was fast becoming the longest night of my life and I noticed dawn breaking as the flight prepared to land at JFK airport. 

But no, my story doesn't end here.  The woman could barely walk as we were leaving the craft.  Begrudgingly, I allowed her to hold on to me for support.  I should have turned her over to the airline for support.  Who knows why I didn't?  Alas, I found a wheelchair for her and wheeled her to baggage, helped her with her bags and allowed her to cling on to me for another moment outside the airport as I found her a cab and sent her on her way. 

 

It was a long night, to say the least.  Maybe I did the right thing by helping her.  Maybe not. 

 

A few days later I was out with my friend in New York and we met some friends of hers who had also flown in from Utah.  During our lunch I was telling them this story and they said to me "Oh, you're that guy who was with the hooker on the airplane!  We saw you!"  Of course they were on the flight as well!

 

Yep.  They saw me, along with hundreds of other people.  What a night!  More than ten years have passed, but I still cringe when I think about this awful flight.