Aria 1: "EXACTLY like last time...."

This trip started out promising enough, until we get on the plane. I had camped the seat reservations for days in advance, trying to secure a seat with at least a little more leg room. Alas, everything was gone save for one "exit row" seat on the right side of the plane. Now, common sense should have told me that there must be a reason why that "exit row" seat was left unbooked, even though NWA was charging $50 more for it as part of its "coach choice" program. So I assume I'm getting some sort of an exit row seat. Only...not. They consider the first row behind the actual exit row as "exit row seats". Great. So I ended up with a $50 seat that's the same as any other seat, except I'm directly in front of the exit row, which means maybe, just maybe, there's a chance that on THIS 13 hour flight, I won't have someone reclining into my lap.

Of course, that would have been too easy, right?

Lo and behold, here comes Douchie McDouchebag 2.0, all 350+ pounds of him, wearing a Kansas City football cap, with his small Japanese wife half his age in tow. He lets out a hacking cough, glares at the seat in front of me, turns around and flies into the seat with the force of an anvil, causing my knees to pound against the "cloth" that makes up the seat. HE HAS THE FUCKING EXIT ROW AND YET HE HAS TO RECLINE ALL THE WAY BACK?! And this continued, for the next 13 hours. Oh, and if that wasn't enough, he was farting. He was blasting me and the other people behind him with an array of Silent But Deadly's following every single time the bastard was served a meal. Fortunately this time I skipped the food, so I didn't end up feeling as sick or bloated as I usually do after a cross-continental flight, but that was a small comfort after all the discomfort I went through.

Seriously. If you see the hat at the top of my entry in front of you on a future Japan flight, get out of that seat. I mean it. No matter what it takes, don't sit behind him.

And then we landed. I thought the troubles were over, but no. See, I wanted to stay at the same hotel as last time, because it was a really nice hotel. The internet wasn't cooperating, so I settled for a hotel "10 minutes walk" from one of the train stations. Yeah, right. 10 minutes, my ass. With luggage in tow, it took us more like 30, and now with both of us sore and tired as hell.
In fact, Lisa is snoring over there, I think I'll be joining her shortly...