Although the young woman (she seems college-age) was easy to ride by, I did wonder if she'd been raised by feral animals. She ate her nails as if she were a beaver at a tree, gnawing aggressively and constantly, and the end result was not pretty. Her digits resembled stubby pencil nubs, and the associated sounds were disgusting. At one point, she spit a severed nail bit out towards the window with an audible pthu; at that point I nearly lost it. However, dinner then arrived and things devolved a bit more. Not often have I heard such loud, smacky chewing. How the food even stayed inside her gaping chomp hole continues to baffle me.
And then there was the constant hair pulling, stroking, picking and plucking. That thin, ropey strand was worked as if her fingers were a dancer doing a real number on a pole. It was too much, people!
Then there was the visual I was gifted with every time she leaned over- it was enough to make my don my eye mask. This gal was wearing low-rise spandex leggings (these definitely fell into T's inappropriate spandex wearing category) and a shirt that was failing in its job if covering the back forty was the assignment.
And lastly, while I have flown with kids many times and totally understand that at times, it doesn't go well despite best efforts, the flight to Frankfurt did feel like being strapped in a giant, unhappy playpen. Whoa, at least I got tons of reading done!
Giant latte, giant latte... I'm on the prowl!