This is the story of the first time I rode on a plane. I was traveling to Florida to see my sweet little wrinkly grandma. My ride on the plane was horrible and the smell was horrific. On our way there it seemed as if everybody had to go to the restroom. The worst time about it was that every time the plane kind of jerked back the bathroom door would open. When I say I wish Jesus would’ve came and toke me away from the smell, I am being dead serious.
Then in front of me there was the little Indian boy who kept turning around and stare at me. I was like what is this little fat boy looking at. Nothing about the people behind me were nice. Every five minutes someone was kicking the back of my seat. I had the worst experience. The crazy thing is that I would do it all again just to see my wrinkly Grandma.