Blockheads.

Matt and I had just gotten married last May, and we decided to go to the most romantic city in the world for our honeymoon: Vegas. Actually, it just ended up being the cheapest trip we could find without staying at a Cockroach Inn. We were super excited to go since Matt never visited Vegas and I was there once when I was 15, which clearly does not count. We found an online special to fly Southwest Airlines and to stay at the Bellagio, which altogether cost less than 2 nights at a Sandals resort. We never flew Southwest before, but figured it had to be a decent airline and it would have been a crime not to take advantage of the package.
We get to the airport feeling high on life and thrilled about how perfect our wedding turned out to be. However, that feeling quickly changed soon after we checked in.
“Matt…how come we don’t have an assigned seat?” I look at my ticket and it just shows that we are boarding group C.
“I guess we will find out once they start boarding,” Matt assures me.
We walk over to the security line, and right away I notice the random groups of large, dumpy women wearing New Kids on the Block paraphernalia. Women wearing NKOTB shirts, sporting NKOTB baseball caps and holding NKOTB pictures were huddled together like some deranged sports team going through security and singing “Step by Step”. I decided not to make a big deal of this, for flying is not one of my favorite past times and I just wanted to get to Vegas unharmed. Besides, I was sure the odds of them being on the same flight as me were slim to none.
We go through security and walk to our gate, and we see signs that read A 1-30, A 31-60, B 1-30, B 31-60 and C 1-17. It all of a sudden hits me that for some stupid reason Southwest Airlines does not believe in assigned seating, but instead you must go by groups and pray that you get to sit next to the person you are flying with.
“This is the most retarded thing I have ever heard!” I say to Matt. “We are one of the first people to check in to our flight, yet we are part of the last boarding group!”
“I know this is ridiculous, but we are on our honeymoon,” Matt assures me, “I’m sure someone will give up their seat if needed so that we could sit together.” As Matt is saying this, I see out of the corner of my eye a herd of animals galloping toward our gate. As they get closer, I could make out the 5 letters I was dreading to see on my flight. “Oh great, what the hell is this?” I say outloud.
“Blockheads.”
I turn around and see a frizzy haired woman in her 40’s wearing a see through tank top and what might as well have been pajama bottoms. She had a rose tramp-stamp tattoo which I found very classy. “Excuse me, what did you just say?” I ask her.
“They are Blockheads. And you are surrounded by us.”
“And what, may I ask, is a Blockhead?”
Pretty told me that a Blockhead is a New Kids On The Block fan, and they all had just gotten off the NKOTB cruise (yes, they have their own cruise ship) and were on their way back to whatever cave they crawled out of. “So you better watch what you say about us.” she threatened me.
“Yeah whatever, I could take them.”“Trust me,” Pretty growled, “you don’t want to mess with us.”
I had enough at this point and walked away from her and got into my group. They start the boarding process and I already know that I am going to be seated by myself in the middle of 2 Blockheads, and Matt will be seated in the toilet. About 5 hours later they call group C and we walk to the plane. On a side note, the whole time we were waiting there we were lucky enough to be entertained by a group of hillbillies singing a whole medley of New Kids tunes. By the time they were done singing “The Right Stuff” I wanted to call the whole honeymoon off.
We get into the plane and what do you know, the entire flight is packed with single fliers, all who have decided that the middle seat was plagued and therefore took up all the aisle and row seats. “What did I tell you, I knew we weren’t going to be able to sit together!” I wanted to scream.
Matt all of a sudden pushes me out of the way. “EXCUSE ME EVERYONE! MY WIFE AND I HAD JUST GOTTEN MARRIED AND ARE ON OUR HONEYMOON AND WOULD GREATLY APPRECIATE IT IF SOMEONE MOVED A SEAT SO THAT WE COULD SIT TOGETHER!” He stops and waits for a good humanitarian to graciously give up their seat so we could be together. Instead, nobody moves but just stares at us as if we had just announced we were part of the Taliban and would be hijacking this plane. I swear I saw someone start to drool.
“Please, could anyone give up their seat so that we could sit together?” Matt pleads. “This is a full plane and everyone is eventually going to be sitting next to a stranger anyways!”
We seriously wait another 5 minutes for someone to say something when Jesus, aka seat 15A stands up. “OK, you can have my seat. But you owe me a drink!”
We kindly thank the heroic man who so bravely left his seat in search of another one and we take our spots. I am relieved, and so is Matt, and we slowly drift off to sleep to the lulling voices of 20 Blockheads singing “Hangin Tough”.