So I flew to Michigan for Memorial Day Weekend.
And, as everyone knows, when a male boards a plane, he prays that he gets seated next to either a) some hot Brazilian girl who speaks broken English, or b) an empty seat.
Any other scenario -- with the exception being if Jimmy Buffett decides to fly coach and you end up tossing back Coronas the whole flight -- sucks.
Well, to my extreme disappointment, Delta Airlines Flight 5631 from JFK to Detroit Metro Friday was full, I did not see any bronze-skinned beauties in need of English lessons, and The Coolest Man Alive was nowhere to be found anywhere near seat 4A.
Instead, I arrive at my aisle to find one of the fattest, smelliest dudes I have ever encountered in seat 4B.
Not only did this guy smell like butt-hole, lockerroom and a garbage pick-up day in Manhattan all rolled into one, but he wanted to chat it up. I spent the following two hours gasping for air and pretending to be asleep at the same time, all the while, wishing, hoping, and making deals with the Big Guy, all in futility, that my flight did not get delayed.
I also spent a great deal of that time contemplating women whom I would pay anything to get a seat next to on an airplane.
So, in part because I missed the musician draft Thursday while seated next to Fatty McGee, today I present to you New York-born singer songwriter:
... Ok, I just heard the needle drop, and I get the picture. So she has clothes on. Fuck off. She's hot in my book.
Maybe Jaymay is not your high-profile J-Lo, Alicia Keys, or pre-train wreck Britney Spears, but, she can actually sing and play (gasp) at least two instruments. And I assume she has not had a train run on her by Eminem, Fred Durst, and/or Kid Rock. (Always a plus.--ed.)
And I hung out with her once after a show ... that is if you count sitting next to her while she promptly passed out on the table after about five minutes of witty banter.
She also has an exceptional rack.