Man Writes Lengthy Complaint To Airline About Having To Sit Next To What He Thought Was An ‘Infant Hippopotamus’

Man Writes Lengthy Complaint To Airline About Having To Sit Next To What He Thought Was An ‘Infant Hippopotamus’
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An airline passenger’s letter to the Australian airline that forced him to sit next to a man as fat as “an infant hippopotamus” who smelled like “blue cheese” and a “Mumbai slum” has gone viral due to its hilarious comparisons and eloquent fury.

According to Huffington Post UK, Rich Wisken wrote on a blog that he paid an extra $23 for an aisle seat on his flight from Perth to Sydney so he could have more room on his four-hour flight.

Instead, however, he found himself seated next to a morbidly obese man, pinning him to his seat like “a fleshy boulder.”

He tried to change seats but every empty space was taken up by passengers stretching themselves out for comfort.

“It was then I realised that my fate was sealed,” Wisken wrote to Jetstar airlines.

“I made my way back to Jabba the Hutt (the blob creature in Star Wars) and spent the remainder of the flight smothered in side-boob and cellulite, taking shallow breaths to avoid noxious gas poisoning.”

And if he wasn’t angry enough, Wisken found out two days later that a flight to Melbourne he booked with the same airline had been canceled.

The re-scheduled flight was canceled as well and the one after that was delayed for two hours.

After receiving the letter, Huffington Post UK reports, Jetstar emailed Wisken with an $87 voucher to compensate for the string of inconveniences.

“Awesome work, Jetstar!” he wrote in response.

“Two of my flights in the past two days have been cancelled. You’re so lucky that my favorite pastime is wasting both time and money getting to and from airports.

Imagine how annoyed someone who doesn’t LOVE wasting time and money would feel about this situation. Man, I’d hate to be that guy…”

The full letter can be found below.


Dear Jetstar,

Do you like riddles? I do, that’s why I’m starting this letter with one. What weighs more than a Suzuki Swift, less than a Hummer and smells like the decaying anus of a deceased homeless man? No idea? How about, what measures food portions in kilograms and has the personal hygiene of a French prostitute? Still nothing? Right, one more try. What’s fat as fuck, stinks like shit and should be forced to purchase two seats on a Jetstar flight? That’s right, it’s the man I sat next to under on my flight from Perth to Sydney yesterday.

As I boarded the plane, I mentally high-fived myself for paying the additional $25 for an emergency seat. I was imagining all that extra room, when I was suddenly distracted by what appeared to be an infant hippopotamus located halfway down the aisle. As I got closer, I was relieved to see that it wasn’t a dangerous semi-aquatic African mammal, but a morbidly obese human being. However, this relief was short-lived when I realised that my seat was located somewhere underneath him.

Soon after I managed to burrow into my seat, I caught what was to be the first of numerous fetid whiffs of body odour. His scent possessed hints of blue cheese and Mumbai slum, with nuances of sweaty flesh and human faeces sprayed with cologne - Eau No. Considering I was visibly under duress, I found it strange that none of the cabin crew offered me another seat. To be fair, it’s entirely possible that none of them actually saw me. Perhaps this photo will jog their memories.

Pinned to my seat by a fleshy boulder, I started preparing for a 127 Hours-like escape. Thankfully though, the beast moved slightly to his left, which allowed me to stand up, walk to the back of the plane and politely ask the cabin crew to be seated elsewhere. I didn’t catch the names of the three flight attendants, but for the purpose of this letter, I’ll call them: Chatty 1Chatty 2 and Giggly (I’ve given them all the same surname - Couldnotgiveashit). After my request, Chatty 1 and Chatty 2 continued their conversation, presumably about how shit they are at their jobs, and Giggly, well, she just giggled. I then asked if I could sit in one of the six vacant seats at the back of the aircraft, to whichGiggly responded, “hehehe, they’re for crew only, hehehe“. I think Giggly may be suffering from some form of mental impairment.

I tried to relocate myself without the assistance of the Couldnotgiveashit triplets, but unfortunately everyone with a row to themselves was now lying down. It was then I realised that my fate was sealed. I made my way back to Jabba the Hutt and spent the remainder of the flight smothered in side-boob and cellulite, taking shallow breaths to avoid noxious gas poisoning. Just before landing, I revisited the back of the plane to use the toilet. You could imagine my surprise when I saw both “crew only” rows occupied by non-crew members. I can only assume Giggly let them sit there after she forgot who she was and why she’s flying on a big, shiny metal thing in the sky.

Imagine going out for dinner and a movie, only to have your night ruined by a fat mess who eats half your meal then blocks 50% of the screen. Isn’t that exactly the same as having someone who can’t control their calorie intake occupying half your seat on a flight? Of course it is, so that’s why I’m demanding a full refund of my ticket, including the $25 for an emergency row seat.

I’m also looking to be compensated for the physical pain and mental suffering caused by being enveloped in human blubber for four hours. My lower back is in agony and I had to type this letter one-handed as I’m yet to regain full use of my left side. If I don’t recover completely, I’ll have to say goodbye to my lifelong dream of becoming Air Guitar World Champion. If that occurs, you will pay.

To discuss my generous compensation package, email me at: richwisken@hotmail.com, or tweet me at: @RichWisken

No regards, Rich Wisken.


Via: Huffington Post UK, Top Photo Courtesy: Tumblr

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Sean Levinson

Sean Levinson loves writing almost as much as he loves ranting about politics. Elite Daily lets him do both, and he couldn't be happier now that he's finally putting his years at SUNY New Paltz to good use. When he's not writing, Sean enjoys nature excursions, playing the guitar and the Ultimate Fighting Championship. Look for him on "Real Time with Bill Maher," where he regularly appears in his most precious fantasies.

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