the buttface

so I was on my flight up to lovely northern CA (on southworst) and it was actually an easy flight. plane wasn't crowded, sat next to a (kind of) pretty girl, the attendants were very cordial, etc. all was really great until it was time to get up and leave. the guy in the aisle across from me, a stout fellow, late 20's, in a t-shirt and saggy jeans (standard), got up first. not wanting to try and fit two people in an aisle where one person was taking up enough room for both of us, I remained seated. in hindsight, this was a mistake.

the stout fellow in the designer jeans (waist: 42; inseam: 30) leaned over and grabbed his bag/backpack and all of a sudden I was nose to sagging beltline with a prodigious ass crack. egads, man! tuck that thing in! it was mere inches my face. really not cool. i almost jumped into my co-passenger's lap to escape it, to no avail, so I stood up.

i figured he'd feel the breeze, as it were, and cover up, no serious harm done.
I figured wrong.

the stout fellow (240 ell-bees if he was an ounce, 5' 7"ish) promptly swung his backpack on, taking up a not inconsiderable amount of space in front (gut) and behind (backpack). as he was swinging, he rotated through my standing room, and I had to sit back down in my chair. just in time for his backpack to pull his XXXL shirt WAY up above his beltline and the reaches of his (low) sagging pants. and give me the buttface again.

dick.

don't let it happen to you.
on the other hand, there's this.