Ohhhhhh, Great. I’m Going to be the Stinky Person on the Plane.

I’m pretty sure I’m not alone on this thought, but I fear being next to the stinky person on a 13+ hour plane ride, or even an hour plane ride for that matter. Once, I sat next to a man who expelled gas all the way from London to Los Angeles, and I had the privilege of marinating in his fecal crumbs the entire journey since I was in the middle seat. Now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure this is why I now insist on having an aisle seat…

Anyway, I’ve been searching for a pair of black boots suitable for walking; seeing as I am leaving for Ireland, and it rains a lot, I wanted boots and all the boots I own have heels; I’m definitely not looking at taking on cobblestone streets in heels after a few Guinness beers…

So I finally found a pair that I liked online. I expedited the shipping overnight (I’m a huge procrastinator. I’ve known about my trip for a few weeks, yet I waited two days before leaving to get what I needed), and when they arrived last night, I immediately noticed the smell…. they smell stink like bacon.
Now, I love bacon; bacon is my absolute favorite food to eat. But when my shoes smell like bacon, I must draw the line somewhere.

Frustrated and angry that I waited for the last-minute and now worried that I won’t have boots, I threw them on the floor next to my bed and went to sleep. When I woke up this morning, my entire house STUNK like bacon, and I was the owner of a RAGING liquid-smoke induced headache. Frightened that the drug-sniffing dogs at LAX are going to viciously attack me when I walk through the security line due to the excruciating scent of smoked meat, I plopped the boots hopelessly in the backyard to air out for the day. After hours of fresh air, and my dogs attempting to eat them, I brought them inside my room and sadly stared at them.

My sister, not knowing anything about the boots, walked by and asked “why the hell does it smell like a BBQ in here???”…. Her question immediately gave me an idea… FEBREEZE THOSE BABIES!!! Sadly, half a can of the freshener which promises to block any odor has yet to dull the smokey scent, although it does have a slight vanilla undertone to the smokiness now.

Considering I leave tomorrow afternoon, and I have no other black boots, I will just wear the damn things in hopes that at some point I stop smelling like a breakfast skillet. I’m sure after a few days (fingers crossed) I should be golden. And I apologize ahead of time to whoever is seated in seat B26, as well as anyone I walk past during trips to the lavatory.

bacon child
Perhaps if I wore this on the plane with my boots it would be more acceptable to exude a bacon scent

About The Roaming Bean (109 Articles)
You're probably wondering what the heck is a "Roaming Bean"... Given that I am clearly not a Bean, and my name is Jen, what gives with this Bean thing, right? A friend of mine called me JenBean as a child, and it kinda stuck. Actually, it really stuck... even my license plate says Jenbean. And seeing as I have this grand lust to wander the world, The Roaming Bean seemed suitable. I've changed my career path more times than I have my underwear (minus all the times I've gone commando).... from animating, to forensic pathology, to international business, to fashion marketing and even to my wonderful and favorite of the bunch, degree in culinary arts, nothing kept my attention. Nothing was fun enough to do every day for the rest of my life. I mean, even though I cooked for celebrities in the heart of Hollywood, CA, why the hell would I want to sweat my ass off in a ridiculously HOT kitchen for most of the day and go home smelling like beef and onions? And the chef hat?? Do you know what that did to my hair?? Enter traveling.... The rainy day I descended down the tower of Notre Dame in Paris, gripping on to the railing for dear life so not to slip and tumble to an early death from the torrential down pour that was causing a small flood in the stairwell, my life changed. When I safely made it to the ground, legs shaky from an apparent lack of fitness it requires to walk up and down 387 steep stairs, I realized my hands were stained a delightful copper color from the rusted hand rail I had so dearly clung to. Desperate to get the icky stuff off my supple hands, and no running water in sight, I did what any other hopeless idiot would have done: I washed my hands in the nearest Parisian gutter. It was that moment that changed my life... I threw away my hair dryer, my rolling luggage and my dignity. I let my hair go natural, I bought a back pack and I CAMPED through Europe for a month and a half. Yes my friends, I crossed over into a savage traveling beast. Ok, a lot of people travel that way. But I didn't. And I'm so incredibly thankful for that rainy day in Paris that made me realize the world is a pretty sweet place. That realization led me on a quest; a quest to get out there, see things, soak up some local culture and eat my way around the world (with minimal food-related illnesses, such as but not limited to raging diarrhea).

9 Comments on Ohhhhhh, Great. I’m Going to be the Stinky Person on the Plane.

  1. Jen glad you made it there safe the fish and chips look great bring me some home dont drink to much and have a wonderful time love you dad

  2. To be fair, they could smell of worse things… bacon’s not so awful int he grand scheme of things.

    I hope you weren’t sat next to a vegetarian though! Haha.


  4. Great post, hope thwy are un-stinking now…anyway, we eat a lot of bacon in Ireland, so you may not be noticed!

    • Awesome! I’ll fit right in! (And they still smell! My flight has been delayed a few hours, so I’m hoping it’s some type of divine intervention helping me un-stench my boots!)

  5. I’m glad my shoes O’ bacon made your day… I’m sure my plane neighbor won’t agree…

    Thanks!! 🙂

  6. Thanks for my laugh of the morning! Have a great time in Ireland ~ wishing you sunny days (or at least no rain).

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