You made a grave mistake by waiting until the last minute to book your flight. This lack of foresight cost you any chance of scoring a window or aisle seat.
Now you walk slowly to the back of the plane to take your place in a dreadful Economy-class middle seat. Seat E39.
Hopeful scenarios still play out in your head. Maybe one of the other passengers in your row didn’t make it to the airport in time? Perhaps you will be sitting next to a pair of lithe European models who take up zero space and want to invite you to a VIP champagne party at your destination?
These dreams are quickly squashed as seat E39 comes into view. On the aisle side of your row is a rather large man who resembles the comic book guy from The Simpsons. He should have purchased a second seat for himself, but instead his fast food-lined frame is spilling over the center elbow rest into your territory. He burps as you awkwardly squeeze between him and the seat in front of you. A whiff of stale Big Mac invades your nostrils.
You ease down into seat E39 and lean towards the window in order limit the amount of necessary contact with your large row-mate’s extra stomach. Unfortunately, this brings you closer to the other passenger sitting in your row.
This other passenger is a strange foreigner of questionable gender. Apparently whatever native land this creature comes from has not yet discovered the benefits of modern deodorant. In fact, it smells like bathing isn’t even culturally acceptable in his (or maybe her) homeland.
“Alright folks, it looks like we are going to be sitting on the tarmac for a bit. Please make yourselves comfortable,” the pilot announces over the loudspeaker.
Comfortable? Is he serious? Comfortable!?!
Clearly your travel experience today will be a long and agonizing one. You are a piece of meat, sandwiched between these two special individuals who are the sliced bread (that has gone stale and smells rather foul). Together they generate a thick air not unlike the stench of a landfill.
You begin to sweat. Your stomach turns. You might need to use the complimentary barf bag before the plane even takes off. Is this it? Are you going to asphyxiate from lack of fresh air? Your vision narrows and suffocation seems imminent.
And then it hits you.
In your pocket is a small vial of essential oil. Aromago Revive. Your savior.
You fish it from your pocket, unscrew the cap, quickly apply it on your finger and wipe the refreshing blend of peppermint and eucalyptus oils under your nose.
Your vertigo is gone and the stench of your fellow passengers is replaced with the refreshing smell of Aromago. You close your eyes and are transported to a lush meadow far away where the sun beats on your face and nature flourishes around you.
You never know who you’ll sit next to on a flight. Be sure to pack your Aromago.