FYI, the actual story is 674 words; the filler is a comedy act.

While waiting at the gate, I ran into a young lady named Emily, who was an anxious flyer. I asked her what her story was, got her to talk, and the next thing I knew, we were saying I do in front of Elvis the Divine!

To make a long story short, time flew by during the many dinners, shows, and trips, creating hazy memories. Traveling extensively is part and parcel of my work as a comedian. After a year of dating, she said she wanted to come to my show. During our time in Vegas, we had a chance meeting with someone who believed they were Elvis reincarnated and performed wedding ceremonies as a side job.

Our honeymoon was in Aruba, where I had a gig booked. Emily was my champion, and she was no longer the nervous flyer.

Cruise ships were always fun gigs, but I frequently needed new material because I could perform several times on each cruise. My performance tonight was expected to have 3000 attendees. Why don't we talk about travel? Why not talk about some of those adventures when the taxi was late or the plane was delayed? How about the infamous pat-down from some stranger just to make sure your Xanax was working?!

Emily was unsure if it was a good topic, so I needed to give her a glimpse of my thoughts. Reading a script and actually watching someone perform it is different. Delivery is a major part of the performance.

Still, cruises always provided comedic moments, such as the minuscule bathroom enabling simultaneous toothbrushing and defecation. That tiny bar of soap that could get lost in a heartbeat was comical but not nearly as wacky as flushing the toilet while sitting on it. Constipated? Sit and flush.

According to her, bathroom humor was cringe-worthy, and cursing was off-limits. My act was different, as most comedians find that the F bomb always lands a laugh. I am not really sure how talking about sex or using the F word seems to draw laughter from the crowd, so I tried to keep that out of my show. This was my performance on the last cruise.

***

Hey everyone! Hope you're having a great cruise!

This is a big change for me since I usually fly everywhere. The speed change from 500 knots at 30,000 feet to 22 knots at sea level is massive.

Speaking of flying, how do you all like those porn scanners? Can you imagine what those people do at night when they try to sleep? They see thousands of naked people every day, and you would think that would put a cramp in their sex lives.

If you don’t want to go through the scanner, have a pat down.

I bet I have boyfriends I don’t know about in every town in America and some in the UK. Several of them, at least, owe me a drink, as they have been where no man has gone before.

Do you realize you can't even joke with them? I am a comedian, in case you didn’t know.

You know how they say you should always be prepared for security? I like to think I’m prepared.

My shoes, laptop, and belt are already off. I’m like a magician—the “now you see it, now you don’t” kind! TSA agents know me for the thorough searches I receive. Got it? Halting just north of my knees, they stare at my smiling face.

I thought about giggling like a little girl each time they went too far. “Hey it tickles!”

I mean, it’s like a game of Twister down there. "Right foot, green footprint!" the agent yelled. I feared falling and hitting someone with my bag.

That pat-down was awkward, right? This feels like a bizarre "Bachelor" episode. The agent's comment about checking my inner thighs made me realize the situation was serious.

I appreciate the TSA. They are like the airport bouncers, making sure no one gets in with a dangerous weapon or a bad sense of humor.

Let's address the obvious issue. I'm often asked about my source material. Seriously? Ever just listened by an airport gate?

Airports are comedy clubs with overpriced drinks. Airport chaos provides endless people-watching.

Picture this: a dad and his toddler are locked in an epic showdown. The kid is in full meltdown mode, and the dad hits him with, "If you don’t stop crying, no ice cream!" What world does he live in that he thinks a five-year-old would comprehend that threat?

I would have wagered money that my seat would be next to the five-year-old.

And don't forget the announcements! You know, the ones that sound totally creepy? “Attention, passengers, the flight to Des Moines has been delayed indefinitely.” Indefinitely? That's like a time loop, right? I’m just waiting for someone to start yelling, “We’re stuck in the Twilight Zone!”

Now, about those people who are always late... These people will be late to their own funerals. They hung out at the bar too long, and now they're in a hurry.

They're running like crazy through the terminal! I'm sipping my fancy coffee, strolling along while they're racing to catch their plane. I was at the bar, and now I'm laughing because that guy is so drunk, he's heading to the wrong gate. You can't fix stupid. The airport bar is not the place to get blackout drunk, just saying.

And let's not forget about the chats! Couples are fighting over beach vs. mountains like it's a life-or-death decision. "Hey, do we prefer sandy toes or frostbite?" I'm just thinking, "Why don't you skip the vacation and use that cash for therapy?"

You always get that one guy who thinks he's a DJ, playing his music loud on his phone. I want peace and quiet, but he's all, "Party time!" I bet he thinks he's on some crazy airport reality show.

Let's talk about something we all see at airports: anxious travelers. Picture this: some guy pacing like crazy while you're trying to eat your overpriced pretzel.

Seriously, they look like they're about to be on Survivor: Airplane Edition. They're really easy to spot. Their eyes are wide, and they're white-knuckling their armrests; they look terrified.

What's up with all the rituals? Ever notice their routine? First off, you gotta breathe deep. They’re over there like they’re trying to summon the spirit of calm with every inhale. Breathe in...count to three.

Then, checking the flight status is a frequent occurrence. They check that app constantly, like they expect to win the lottery. "Will it be there when it's supposed to?" How evil would it be to strike up a conversation with someone within earshot of those anxious souls and talk about the last airplane crash of that exact type of plane? If the flight is overbooked, that might be a cheaper way to fly standby.

Nah, I'm just messing around. I wouldn't do it. It would freak me out way more than them.

And when it’s time to board, oh boy! You’d think we were storming the beaches of Normandy. They’re lined up in their boarding zones like they’re in the Hunger Games. “May the odds be ever in your favor!” I’m strolling up at the last minute like, “I’m just here for the snacks, folks!”

But get this: When they finally get on the plane. It's obvious when they realize how high up, they are. You could see the panic turn to "Oh crap!" in their eyes. Then the flight attendant comes around with snacks, and poof! They're not scared anymore. "Wait, so I can eat peanuts and *not* die?"

My wife was one of those anxious travelers—you know the type, right? The ones who can turn a simple flight into a full-blown episode of “Survivor: Cabin Edition.”

So, she’s coming home from a business trip, and of course, she’s already stressed. You can almost hear her inner monologue: “Did I pack my anxiety meds?” Is the plane going to be on time? What if I sit next to a crying baby?” It’s a whole mental marathon!

And just when she thinks she’s going to make it through this flight in one piece, a stranger strikes up a conversation with her. I mean, come on! This guy has the social skills of a toddler! He plops down next to her like he’s the designated seatmate for her anxiety!

So, he chats her up, and she’s trying to be polite, you know? But inside, she’s like, “Please, just let me have my panic attack in peace!” This guy’s talking about his cat’s dietary preferences like he’s auditioning for a reality show called “My Cat Is Better Than Yours.” And she’s there thinking, “Buddy, I’m just trying to keep my heart rate below 150!”

And you know how strangers can be, right? They do not know what they’re stepping into. He’s all like, “So, what do you do for a living?” And she’s like, “Uh, I manage anxiety for a living!” I swear, she should have just pulled out a sign that said, “Warning: May Overthink This Conversation!”

But here’s the kicker! As he’s rambling on about his cat's gluten-free diet, the flight hits a little turbulence. Suddenly, she’s gripping her armrest like it’s the last lifeline on Earth! And this guy? He’s still talking, completely oblivious! “And then Mr. Whiskers started eating organic treats…”

At that moment, she looks at him like he just offered her a one-way ticket to Crazy Town. She’s thinking, “Dude, I’m about to become a permanent resident in this turbulence! Can we table the cat talk for a second?”

Finally, the flight stabilizes, and she takes a deep breath, ready to escape the conversation. She musters up the courage and politely says, “Hey, I really need to focus on breathing right now.” And you know what? That’s the ultimate polite exit!

So, my wife tuned him out, and the guy finally got the hint. She makes it home, and when she tells me the story, I can’t help but laugh. An anxious traveler and a chatty stranger—it’s like a sitcom waiting to happen!

While she is talking, I’m sitting there thinking, “How can I help her feel better about this flying thing?”

I decided to take notes, like any good partner should. I'm listing things that might calm her down: deep breaths, counting to ten, and avoiding gluten-free cat food—you know, the necessities!

The problem is, she probably thought I wasn't serious when I began taking notes. I'm trying to be supportive, but she thinks I'm making fun of her anxiety.

I could practically see the gears turning in her head. “Oh great, now he’s documenting my meltdown for future reference! Is this going to be the punchline of his next set?”

I exclaimed, "Absolutely not, darling!" Her face showed a sudden panic, as if she'd just become the unwitting subject of a real-life anxiety film.

As I wrote notes, her anxiety mounted. I bet she's thinking about becoming a TSA agent just to avoid flying! I'm asking myself, "What have I done?"

At last, I understood I must de-escalate the situation. So, I look at her and say, “Hey, I’m not writing a book here! I’m just taking notes for our ‘How to Fly Without Losing Your Mind’ handbook!”

By the way, that got a laugh out of her! I admire her ability to find humor amidst the chaos, even when she's at the center. Later, she allowed me to put this into the act. But I can't help but wonder if she doesn’t hold a little grudge. I swear she has a crystal ball and prays to the flying gods, as it always seems that I end up next to a screaming kid.

I mean, it’s like a cosmic joke! I must have done something bad in a past life, like kick a puppy or steal candy from a baby. Because every single time I board a plane, it’s like the universe is saying, “Hey, remember that one time? Well, here’s your penance—enjoy the concert of chaos!”

As soon as I sit down, I hear the unmistakable sound of a child wailing like they just found out there’s no Wi-Fi on board. And I’m thinking, “Great! This is going to be a delightful two hours of high-pitched opera!”

So, there I am, trying to settle in, and the kid is just letting loose. It’s not even a regular cry; it’s like a full-on Broadway performance! “Aaaaahhhhhh! I want my mommy!” And you know how parents can be, right? They’re doing everything they can to calm the kid down. “Here’s a toy! Have a snack! Look at the pretty clouds!” Meanwhile, I’m just trying to enjoy my pretzels without losing my hearing! And there it is, the ice cream father. Quiet down, or no ice cream! Yeah, the kid screams louder.

Before we proceed, let me make something perfectly clear: I adore children! Seriously! Their adorableness and energy remind us of life's purest joy. However, what about children traveling by air? That's a completely different story! It's like dining at an upscale restaurant only to be seated beside a family that's tormenting their child for amusement.

Flying has some other light-hearted moments, which maybe you’ve seen. How about the Overhead bin Olympics? It's a sport that combines strength, strategy, and the ability to pretend your oversized bag is carry-on size. You've seen it. That guy trying to stuff a suitcase the size of a small car into the overhead bin. It's like watching a magician trying to fit an elephant into a matchbox!

The best part? When they finally get it in the bin, it won't close. They're up there pushing and shoving while the rest of us bet on whether the bag or the passenger will give up first.

Flying used to be fun. We wore suits and ties. Did that all change with 911, or was it something else?

I say this because of the stinky feet folks who decide that a pressurized metal tube filled with strangers is the perfect place to air out their tootsies. It's like they think they're at a spa, not on a plane!

And it's always the person with the most... let's say, "aromatic" feet who goes shoeless. Suddenly, you're not sure if that's turbulence or just your gag reflex kicking in. Let me tell you, it's a real treat for the olfactory senses!

Have you ever sat next to someone sleeping on the plane? This is where passengers compete for the title of "Most Awkward Sleeping Position." We've got the classic "Head Back, Mouth Open" pose, the "Drooling on the Stranger's Shoulder" maneuver, and my personal favorite, the "Pretzel Twist with a Side of Snoring."

And let's not forget the grand finale – the moment when they wake up, completely disoriented, wondering if they've just time-traveled or landed on another planet. It's a beautiful thing to witness. It’s at least fodder for my job of entertaining you.

On my last trip to the UK, we had a man who decided he needed to stretch.

These are the folks who treat the airplane aisle like it's their personal gymnastics floor. They're twisting, turning, and contorting themselves in ways that would make a yoga instructor jealous. It's like watching a game of human Tetris, but with more turbulence and less forgiving pieces.

So, there you have it, folks – the comedy gold that happens daily in the friendly skies. Next time you're on a plane, just remember you're not just a passenger, you're part of the greatest show above earth! And hey, if all else fails, sit back, relax, and enjoy the in-flight entertainment – your fellow passengers!

***

Emily smiled as we headed back to our cabin.

“What?”

“They laughed. I wish I wasn’t part of your act.”

“Why?”

“Cause people see us, and they believe that I am some sort of crazy person afraid to fly.”

I took a quick shower in our small cabin bathroom while she changed for dinner. Surrounded by trickling water, I contemplated that my performance wouldn't exist without her.

When I stepped out of the shower, I saw her in the light by the door, staring out at the ocean.

“Listen, comedian was never on my radar. In fact, I never thought I’d be doing this. When I met you, that light, that spark entered my life. You are my rock. My muse. And let me tell you something—you didn’t just inspire me, you changed my life.

Before you, I was just some guy trying to figure it all out—stumbling through life like I was in coach on a red-eye flight, just hoping for a bit of legroom. But you came along, and suddenly, life wasn’t just about surviving; it was about living, about laughing, about making people happy.

And you know, people always ask me, “What’s the secret to being funny?” And the truth is… it’s you. You taught me how to find humor in the chaos, how to laugh when things got tough, and, most importantly, how to love myself enough to stand up here and share it with the world.

You’re the laughter in every room and the reason I get to do what I love. I may be the one holding the mic, but you’re the actual star of the show.”

And that, dear friends, puts the argument to bed. The person beside you could be your future best friend, so don’t be afraid to ask them about their story.