It's hard to be impartial about a crass Jersey boy

It was a full flight home from Philly. Wedged between two very large, loud gentlemen who were obviously business colleagues, I shrank down in my seat to avoid the not-so-minty-fresh breath of my companion on the left and unconscious elbow jabs from the guy on my right. I was promptly informed they were from Jersey. "Ah," I muttered in reply, ducking my head and hoping to signal that I was cool with leaving the niceties behind and getting back to my book. All the while, I was engaged in my own personal battle of wills. "Stereotypes, lie down," I commanded silently. "No, Stereotypes, I said down! Now! No, Stereotypes, sit! Stay!" Stereotypes didn't want to listen. These men were total hyperbole. Their accents, their gruff demeanors, their colorful choice of words and gestures in storytelling I was in the company of classic, A-plus, Hollywood-typecast Jersey boys. After a good internal (and, knowing me, probably external) smirk, I sent Stereotypes to the doghouse for bad behavior. All went relatively well for the duration of the plane ride. I managed to tune out the men's brash back-and-forth dialogue, except when one said jokingly, "My wife won't even notice I'm gone." "You don't say," I thought, amused. Then I sent Stereotypes to bed without her supper. Fair and impartial, right? That's the judge's mantra. And it's a good one to stand by, both inside the courtroom and on a flight home from Philadelphia. But sometimes it's easier said than done. Indeed, I found my proximate passengers obnoxious. I enjoyed a little private joke at their expense, but in reality I knew there's perhaps only a little truth behind the whole "Joisey" caricature. Plus, these guys were big on bravado. And their behavior didn't matter, save for the fact that I really did need room to turn the pages of my book and yes, I certainly preferred that we keep the seats' arm rests down. All of that fairness stuff went out the window when the plane landed. "Ding!" went the cabin bell, indicating that people could stand and begin collecting their carry-on luggage from the overhead compartments. Mr. Bad Breath, who had the aisle seat, shot up immediately along with other passengers similarly situated and began collecting his stuff. Meanwhile I, in the middle seat, stayed put, because there's nowhere to go until people start de-boarding anyway. No one was moving yet. But that's when Mr. Wife-Won't-Notice grasped me around my rib cage and says "Come on, b---h, move." Whaaaaaaat? I spun to look at him, mouth agape, when he gave me a playful little shove and said, "Y'know I'm kidding, right?" I was at a loss for words and, folks, I can probably count on one hand the occasions when I have been utterly, truly speechless. I sort of wandered towards the baggage claim until that I felt electrified by a spark of indignant irritation. Now I really understand how difficult fairness and impartiality can be, because all I wanted to say was: "Your Honor, this man is in contempt. May I borrow your gavel and knock him back to Jersey?" Published: Wed, Mar 3, 2010

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